


He Is The Same

by LinksLipsSinkShips



Series: The Rhink Condition [1]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: AU where Link is a famous rapper, AU where Rhett is an NBA player, AU where they're 24 years old but it's modern, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 03:21:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 55,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16318175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinksLipsSinkShips/pseuds/LinksLipsSinkShips
Summary: With his NBA team in it's off-season, Rhett McLaughlin is back home for three weeks to visit his family. Link Neal is between tours, and before the next one starts, he's gone home to his mother's house. When the two former best friends reunite, they are forced to confront old memories and old feelings, while each juggling their own careers in the spotlight.





	1. Back Home

Rhett stretched his too-long body on the bed. His feet hung off the end, the twin too short to accommodate his full 6-foot-7 frame. It had been too long since he’d been in this room, tried to fit into this bed, much smaller than the king he had at home. As he opened his eyes, his old basketball trophies and letterman jacket came into view. These were the relics of an era behind him, but also the symbols of where his journey began. He stretched, his back popping and cracking as he tried to move.  _ I’m going to have to talk to the trainer about that when I get back _ . 

He wasn’t quite ready to get out of bed, too stuck in his morning routine to get a good start to the day without his hands lingering down his torso. He stared up at the ceiling, letting his hands and his mind wander to the situation in his sweatpants. He let his hand wrap around his hard length and he chuckled as he remembered how many times he’d started the day just like this as a teen in this same room. Rhett slowly stroked himself, deciding to start the day on a good note.

He was lost in his daydreams, imagining someone else’s hand wrapped around him, pictured lips wrapped around the tip of his cock as he guided his fingertips there, slick with precome. He was too distracted to hear the door open. “Oh! Oh gosh, sorry. Um. Breakfast is ready. I’ll… I’ll see you down there in a few minutes…” his mother stammered and squeaked, slamming the door behind her.  _ Has no one learned to knock around here?  _ Rhett sighed. He knew he’d be getting a lecture about it later, about sin and lustful thoughts, even if he was a grown man.

Rhett tried again, sliding his hand back down where it was, but the moment was long gone. He sighed and stood up, swapping his sweatpants for clean joggers and stumbled toward his bedroom door, ambling toward the bathroom. He was set on making the most of the few weeks he had in town, but first, breakfast.

* * *

 

Link was face down on his bed, drool dripping from his mouth as he let out a soft snore. “Charles, hon, I’m heading in to work. Mini Wheats are in the pantry.” His mother tapped his foot lightly and he waved a hand toward her. He’d gotten in late last night and he had absolutely no plans to open his eyes for another hour or two at least.

As soon as she closed the door, he was drifting back to sleep, his dreams returning to him easily. He was asleep, but thanks to the dream he was having, parts of him were very much awake, and even in his sleep he found himself grinding against the bed. He woke up with a mess between him and the mattress and sighed, sitting up to search for his glasses. He’d do laundry later.

He stripped his tee shirt off over his head, wiping his stomach off and searching through his old closet for something clean. He didn’t come home as often anymore, usually jumping from tour to tour as an opening act, but his mother had kept everything the same. It worked out. All of his old stuff still fit anyway, which meant he could pack lightly anytime he was going home. He pulled on a black Endless Summer tee shirt and some dark skinny jeans and called it good enough.

He strolled downstairs and found the Mini Wheats in the same place they always were. His mother’s assurance they were in the pantry was unnecessary. Nothing around here ever changed. His first headlining tour was starting in three weeks, but for now, he was back in Buies Creek, and as he lifted his bowl to his lips to drink the last of the milk from his breakfast, he decided he shouldn’t spend what little time he had back home sitting on his mother’s couch.

* * *

 

Rhett couldn’t remember the last time he had been on an actual bike. He’d used exercise bikes for cardio at the training center now and again, but as for a real, stand-alone bike? It had been ages. His schedule was hectic, which meant even in the off-season, there wasn’t a lot of actual time off. It didn’t leave much time for leisurely bike rides, that was for sure. Most of the time, he was training and praying he didn’t get traded to a team he couldn’t stand. Riding a bike wasn’t a priority. But at home, he had the time, so he dusted off his old bike in the garage and climbed on.

The town hadn’t changed at all. He’d been back several times, but this was his first time home for more than a few days since he’d left for college. He hadn’t made it past sophomore year before the NBA caught on to how impressive his jump shot was, and after he’d signed, trips home had become fewer and farther between. He’d barely looked back at all.

His overly busy schedule had caused him to lose touch with most of his old friends. He hadn’t even really had time to make many close college connections outside of his roommates, who had all moved on to bigger and better things. Even his high school friends had faded away over time. He was making great friends playing basketball, though, and he loved his life. His natural height and all of those hours his father forced him to spend time doing basketball drills in the front yard had paid off big time, and his bank account was better for it. Most of the time he didn’t even mind it. If he’d wanted to, he could have had his pick of girls, and the fame wasn’t half bad, either. His back was starting to get the best of him, but he had access to the best trainers and doctors in the world so he was staving off major injuries for as long as he could.

He wondered what everyone was up to around here. He knew one of the kids from his class had become a gynecologist, which made sense for more than just the fact that he came from a few generations of them. Most of the people he’d gone to school with were still here in Buies Creek, just getting by.

Rhett had caught up with the tabloids and online news enough to know his childhood best friend, Link, was a rapper. Sometimes he listened to his tracks to hype himself up before a game, and a few of his teammates had gone to festivals Link played at. Rhett always meant to send an email or a text, but life was busy and he always forgot before he could get around to it.

* * *

 

Link had taken the time to air up the back tire on his old bike before realizing the chain was completely rusted. There was no way it was going anywhere. Since his mother had the car and he’d taken a cab from the airport, he found himself with no means of transportation at all. Instead, he decided to go for a walk and found himself wandering down the street toward the middle of town. He was sure one of the shops would have a bike chain.

Buies Creek was small enough that the walk was nothing. Heck, he could get to the middle of town faster than he’d be able to make it a few blocks in New York City. About halfway there, though, he saw a familiar form heading toward him on a bike. Though it had been years, he was absolutely certain of who it was. At that height, there was no one else it could have been. “Rhett?” Link called out. He picked up the pace toward his old friend.

“Holy shit, Link Neal, is that you?” Rhett pedaled faster, not slowing until he and Link were within a few feet of each other. “God, man, it’s been ages. You look great!” He gestured to a silver streak in Link’s hair. “That’s new. How have you been?”

Link smiled. It had been far, far too long. He’d kept meaning to go to one of Rhett’s games anytime he played in the tri-state area, but they almost always overlapped with his concerts and he’d never made it out. “It’s good, man. I’m good. It’s been awhile! How’s the NBA treating you?”

“I can’t complain. It’s good money, lots of travel, other… perks.”

Leave it to Rhett to transition the conversation to women that quickly. Link smirked. Rhett had always been obsessed with girls, Link thought, particularly the girls they’d describe as  _ fiiiiine _ . “Sounds like we’re living the same life, man,” Link winked. “New cities, new shows, new girls.”

Link wasn’t about to admit to Rhett that it had been an incredibly long time since there’d been a new girl in his bed. Touring was hard on him, and he wasn’t the type to have a girl in every city like other rappers he knew. He liked a solid relationship, and while he couldn’t say he’d never taken advantage of his fame to get someone into bed with him, that always made him feel hollow. He’d long abandoned that trick. The tabloids would still say what they wanted to about him, so he simply let everyone fill in the gaps and believe his sex life was thriving.

“How long are you in town for?” Rhett asked. “Maybe we could get drinks or something sometime? Catch up?” The six years they’d been apart suddenly felt far too long. They’d been best friends since first grade, but the second they’d both left town the summer after graduation, they seemed like strangers.

They lived on different coasts and traveled in different cities. It hit Link suddenly how much he missed having Rhett in his life. “I’m here for 3 weeks, maybe, before my tour starts again. We could meet at the bar tonight. Around 9, maybe?” Link didn’t have to specify which bar. In this tiny town, there was only one. They agreed then parted ways as Link continued on his quest to get a bike chain. Rhett circled around to go back home.


	2. Missed Connections

_ Dammit _ . Rhett was on his third outfit, trying hard to figure out exactly what to wear. He pulled a shirt over his head, then tugged another down in its place.  _ Why is this so hard?  _ He knew he was completely overthinking it. It was just a trip to the bar to meet Link, and he wasn’t doing himself any favors by making a big deal out of finding the perfect outfit. He was just meeting an old friend, not going on a date.

But by outfit five, he convinced himself it was because of Link’s fame that he was nervous. He wanted to look good in case the paparazzi showed up. With Link back home, there was always the chance that word would get out and they’d pop up to snap a few photos. Rhett was just trying to be prepared for that to happen.  _ That’s totally what this is about _ , he thought.

Rhett was famous in his own right. He’d had his share of run-ins with photographers who would photograph dates he’d gone on or times he went shoe shopping. The photos were always splashed in sports-related sections or inside sports publications, though. They rarely made headlines outside of the basketball world or ESPN. But he was never as in-demand with the press as Link was. Wearing the right outfit could be good for his image if someone showed up and took photos of them reconnecting over drinks.

His publicist would be thrilled if he made the cover of something for once instead of being somewhere sandwiched in sports gossip. But as Rhett looked in the mirror again, he was still disappointed with the result. He needed to go casual, and eventually settled on a dark blue henley that fit well in all the right places. It showed off his athletic shape, the best assets of his tall frame, and even highlighted the blue flecks most people missed in his otherwise grey-green eyes. A quick swap of his joggers for jeans and he figured it was as good as it was going to get.

* * *

 

Link’s walk to the store in the humidity of the North Carolina summer left his tee shirt soaked in sweat. Changing the bike chain left it even worse, coated not just with sweat but in dirt and grease as well. He’d forgotten how hot it could get in North Carolina sometimes.  _ Did New York ever get this hot?  _ Link couldn’t remember it feeling this bad, even though he was sure it did. But Link was sure the heat might just kill him. He tossed his shirt and the sheets from that morning into the washing machine, then jumped in the shower to scrub at all of the grime and sweat from the walk and changing the bike chain.

None of it -- the walk or the bike repair -- was hard work. Link wasn’t used to having to do those kinds of things for himself, though. In New York, he’d just call a service and ask them to come pick up the bike and repair it. Here, he didn’t have that luxury.

In the shower, he mentally scanned what he had in his closet for something worth wearing. He tried to remember what was in there, what might look good for meeting Rhett at the bar.  _ Screw it _ , he thought. He didn’t want it to seem like he was putting in any crazy amount of effort, so he figured he’d wear the same clothes he wore earlier. A change of clothes made it seem like he was trying, and he definitely wasn’t trying. It was just drinks with a friend, albeit a friend he hadn’t seen in six years.  _ Just a good friend, Link. Chill.  _ But if it was just a good friend, Link wondered why he had a bubbly pit in his stomach, a bundle of nerves he couldn’t stuff down.

He turned the water a little bit hotter trying to drown out his intrusive thoughts for just five minutes. That’s all he needed. Five minutes and some hot water to give him silence in his mind.

Link toweled off after his shower, then decided he would ride the bike into town and rent a car. He hadn’t brought his own car and didn’t want to borrow his mother’s car since it would leave her without a way to get to work. But he wasn’t feeling the idea of riding a bike everywhere he went. A rental seemed like the right idea. He hoped they’d have something inconspicuous.

* * *

 

Rhett paced up and down a stretch of the road. They’d planned to meet at nine and he’d arrived twenty minutes early. He was terrified of seeming over-eager, so he decided to walk back and forth until a little closer to 9.

For a short while, he leaned up against the side of the bar, checking his watch once in awhile. It crossed his mind that maybe Link was inside waiting, potentially having arrived as he was walking away from the bar while pacing, so at nine sharp, despite his better judgement, he finally decided to go inside.

He scanned the room as he got just inside the door, searching for Link in case he’d gone in first. But there was no sign of him, and Rhett felt frustrated with himself.  _ Dang it. Now I really do look eager _ . He wished he’d stayed outside and waited a little longer. But he hadn’t, and he needed something to calm his nerves. He ordered a shot of whiskey and a beer, figuring he’d get started while he waited. He downed the shot, then nursed the beer.

At 9:30, Rhett scrolled through his phone and wondered if he’d been stood up. Perhaps Link forgot, or got caught up in other plans while home and forgot to let Rhett know he couldn’t make it. _ I’ll leave when I finish this beer _ , Rhett thought. He didn’t realize until that moment how slowly he’d been drinking it in hopes of giving Link as much time as possible to get there.

* * *

 

When Link pulled into the parking lot, he knew there was a good chance Rhett hadn’t noticed him. The car he was in was as unassuming as he hoped it would be, something simple. A beige four-door sedan was a far cry from his usual ride, but the last thing he needed was to be driving anything flashy in Buies Creek.

He’d gotten to the bar well before nine, but he didn’t want to seem overly eager by getting there early, so he’d sat waiting in the parking lot. When Rhett approached, Link suddenly realized he didn’t want to meet Rhett outside and walk in with him. Then it would seem like they’d shown up together, which somehow seemed weirder than just meeting there.

So Link watched from the car as Rhett paced back and forth up the road, then leaned his tall frame against the wall outside.  _ What is he doing?  _ Link wondered. He wasn’t sure why Rhett wasn’t going inside, then assumed he might be making a phone call or something. Link kept waiting.  _ Just go inside already, jeez, Rhett _ . But Rhett waited. At exactly nine, Link watched Rhett check his phone and enter the bar.

He decided he would wait in the car three or four more minutes, then go inside and join Rhett. Link didn’t want to keep him waiting long. But just as he reached for the door handle, his cell phone rang. Link considered not answering it and going inside, but he figured it might be important, a change of plans with his tour or something. Without checking to see who it was, he answered the call.

“Hello?” Link resisted the urge to sigh audibly into the phone. He didn’t have time for this.

“Hey, baby! What’re you doing tonight?” The giggly, high-pitched voice on the other end was clearly not even remotely as sober as Link currently was.  _ Fuck _ .

“Amber? Are you alright?” There was choppy silence on the other end. It was clear she’d called him despite being too busy having a conversation with someone else to actually talk to Link. He heard her say his name, then heard other voices giggling and glasses clinking.

“I’m fiiiiiine, Linkypoo. Where are you?” It was hard to hear Amber over the sound of the loud music in the background. “Come and party with us, baby. I miss you!” She was probably at a club and he was certain she was making terrible decisions. Before Link could respond to her, he heard the tell-tale tapping, then heard Amber take a large inhale.  _ Shit _ .

“We talked about this,” Link said. Silence. “Amber? Amber! God, seriously. We talked about this. You’re… fuck, do you need me to call you a cab?” Link resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but his annoyance was replaced with worry. “I can’t come and get you. I’m home for a few weeks, remember?”

“Home?” She asked.

“If you need me to call someone and pick you up, I can,” Link said. Even though he no longer loved Amber, and as of late, didn’t even really like her, he still worried. Sometimes he wondered why he’d ever gotten involved with her. At first she’d been someone to fill his bed, a model he’d met at an event and taken home after one too many drinks.

But after that, they’d had a volatile relationship with her swinging back and forth between wanting a serious commitment from him and the other half of the time wanting nothing to do with him. She was a party animal, out constantly drinking, doing coke and molly and whatever else she could get her hands on. He was tired of getting dragged down with her. When they’d broken up a year ago, his life had gotten easier, but every month or two she’d inevitably drunk dial him. The first few times, he’d given into the booty call, but now he was over it and he would just call her a cab and say goodnight. She was too much drama.

“No, he’s at home or something. I don’t fucking know,” Amber said. Her speech was muffled and slurred. She was clearly talking about him, not too him, giggling into the receiver suddenly. “Home like at your place? Fuck it, I’ll come over then. I need some time with my favorite guy!” She cooed into the phone.

“No! Amber, no. Don’t go there. I’m not there. I’m home like back home, like not in New York home. Let me call you a cab so you can get home safely,” Link pleaded.

“Back home like in that dump? So you’re not coming, then?” She snapped. “Asshole.” The click answered his question clearly as to whether or not to call a cab. Since he didn’t even know where she was, she definitely wasn’t his responsibility. He hoped she’d be safe, but he still worried. He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. Link had no way of knowing if she had someone looking after her. He may not love her, but he’d be damned if she got hurt when he’d tried to help.

He took a few minutes to compose himself, then headed to the door. He could see Rhett sitting at the bar, his long, lean body and ruffled hair impossible to miss. The bar wasn’t crowded, never really was in this small town, but had it been busy, Rhett still would have been easy to spot.  _ Wow, how is no one even acting like they notice him?  _ Link was convinced everyone was missing out on his presence there, a skilled basketball star. But in reality, Link knew the truth: he didn’t know how anyone could go without noticing this man, who just by sitting there could… just…  _ wow _ . Link couldn’t even finish the thought in his mind.

It had been far too long since he’d seen Rhett McLaughlin, but so many memories and thoughts flooded back.

Link approached him, taking a deep breath before patting Rhett on the back, causing him to jump in his seat. “Hey, buddyroll. Getting started without me?”

* * *

 

“Linkster!” It took Rhett no time at all to fall back into using the familiar nickname, despite years of not using it at all. “I thought you’d forgotten about me there for a minute.” He kicked himself for mentioning it, but his smile lit up his face. His cheeks puffed up over his beard and his eyes twinkled. There was no hint of anger or annoyance in his voice over the wait, either. He’d been terrified that Link had changed his mind, too far removed from Buies Creek and the close friendship they’d shared to want to reconnect. But no, here he was. Link Neal, live and in color.

“No, sorry. I had a phone call I needed to take care of. I didn’t mean to leave you waiting.” It was Link that seemed annoyed now, and at first Rhett worried he was annoyed at being there at the bar. But then he realized Link was probably annoyed over the phone call.  _ Stop stressing,  _ Rhett urged himself.  _ He’s here, isn’t he? _

“Oh, no problem. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just dealing with some stuff back in New York,” Link said, sliding into the barstool next to Rhett’s. “Nothing major.” He waved his hand as if brushing it away, then slapped a smile on his face. Rhett could tell by the sudden change of demeanor that it must have been the phone call bothering Link after all.

“Great. I’ve got the first round,” Rhett offered, waving the bartender toward them. “What’ll it be? Beer? Rum?”

“Oh gosh, no. No rum for me. Bad experience with it. How about whiskey?” Rhett ordered two beers and two more shots of whiskey, smiling at the fact that they’d both ended up whiskey fans.

As teens, he and Link had shared a few beers and one horrible batch of wine Rhett had made in a closet at home. But they hadn’t tried anything else, alcohol-wise. In a small town where they were underage, beer was the only real option anyway. Rhett didn’t drink anything else until he got to college, and by then, he and Link didn’t even know each other anymore.  _ That’s depressing _ , Rhett realized. He hated knowing how long they’d gone without talking, without so much as a text or an email, but he willed his mind to shut up about it. They were there now, and they were making up for lost time with this conversation.

“Dink it?” Link asked, tilting his shot glass toward Rhett. Rhett tapped his against Link’s recalling the hundreds of times they’d done the exact same thing with bottles of beer or even sodas as kids. It had always been their strange little form of a toast, and now after all this time, it felt like a peace offering for six years of everything that went unsaid between them.

* * *

 

Link was a total lightweight. It took him no time at all to feel his skin tingling, and while they weren’t drinking very fast, it didn’t mean he didn’t feel the effects down to his core. They were far more focused on catching up than they were on their beverages, mostly nursing the bottles of beer they’d ordered. But Link decided he really needed to slow down if he wanted to stop himself from making any dumb decisions.

Amber wasn’t the only bad choice he’d made while drinking, not by a long shot. Link could remember how even his first few beers in life led him to use less-than-ideal judgement. Suddenly the thought flashed to his mind of dumb decisions he’d made with Rhett while drinking, but he stuffed the thought back where it came from and took another sip of his beer.

“Remember your first hangover?” Rhett recalled the old memory and let out a hearty laugh. “Gosh, that was what, 9 years ago?”

_ Yeah, it was,  _ Link thought.  _ We were both fifteen and I puked all over you _ . His cheeks flushed with embarrassment over what was now ancient history.

“Ha, yeah, I remember,” Link said. They’d driven out to an abandoned house in the wood with some friends. Someone had brought beers, one of their friends who had a fake ID. Link wasn’t sure how the ID worked since everyone knew everyone in town, but he figured his friend had just driven to one of the nearby towns to grab it. Who knew?

“You got so sick. I was worried!” Rhett said, crinkling his brow with concern. But his laugh broke through to show that in hindsight, it was hilarious. That night, they’d told their parents they were at someone else’s house, creating a circle of lies that no one would have thought to question. Rhett said he was at Ben’s house, Ben at Max’s, Max at Link’s, and Link at Rhett’s. It seemed foolproof at the time, and Link remembered it had worked for them on a few occasions until his mother had called Rhett’s mom once and they’d gotten busted.

“Yeah, but you took good care of me,” Link remembered, “even though I puked all over you.” Link thought back to how he’d tried so hard to keep up with Rhett, even though Rhett was so much taller than him. He’d gotten sick in the process and ended up throwing up on Rhett. The other guys made fun of him for not being able to hold his alcohol, but Rhett moved him over to the corner of the abandoned house, piling coats on him and giving him water. When Link woke up in the morning, head pounding, all of the boys were gone. All of them except for Rhett, of course, who was sitting against the wall beside him, watching him sleep.  _ Gosh _ .

“It was so cold, too! I didn’t have another shirt!” Rhett had been sitting there shirtless in the middle of November, and Link remembered asking why. Rhett had laughed it off at the time, saying it didn’t matter. It wasn’t until later that Link realized he was shirtless because Link had thrown up on him, and he was so concerned Link would get cold that he’d refused to take his sweatshirt or jacket off of the pile he’d buried Link under to keep him warm.

“Well, maybe you’ll get to keep your shirt on tonight. I’ll try not to retch.” Both of them laughed heartily and enjoyed reliving old memories they’d shared years before.  _ Has it really been nine years since that happened?  _ Link could hardly believe it.

Their talk continued on, skipping several years of time. They talked about the first time they drank together, but they skipped the last time they’d done it, instead changing the subject to what they were both up to now. Link drank his beer as Rhett told him everything about LA. It was different in so many ways from the life he’d made for himself in New York City, but the details were still the same. They were both just small town boys trying to figure out life in much larger places.

“It’s been hard, man. I mean, mostly I’m just focused on not getting traded during the off-season right now.” Rhett shared his struggles with his back. He was so tall and his body didn’t stand up to the repeated abuse he put it through in the name of training. He had high hopes the trainer could help him like he’d done so many times before, but mostly Rhett hoped he’d be able to avoid a career-ending back surgery for as long as possible.

“That sounds terrible,” Link commiserated. “Back surgery can’t possibly be pleasant. Are you sure it would be a career-ender?”

“I’d be out for at least a season to recover, and that’s if it goes well. If it doesn’t, I could end up paralyzed or something. But at my age, taking the season off may as well just be the end for me,” Rhett sighed. Link noticed that the time in California had mostly shed Rhett of his southern accent, and he wondered if his own had changed over the years away.

After Link listened to Rhett talk about his career, he’d shared about his own. He told Rhett about the stresses of touring and how rough it could be on life in general.

“I don’t even know why I’ve got an apartment in the city,” Link admitted. “I’ve only been there a few weeks this past year. After the third leg of the last tour, I pretty much just went home and slept for a week straight.” The tour had taken him across the United States twice, first to big cities and then back to smaller metropolitan areas they’d missed. It wrapped with a European and Asian leg, a lot of travel in a short amount of time. It left him little time to even get in the studio to record anything new, let alone sleep or spend time at home. That was, if he could even call his apartment home. It barely felt like it, given how little time he’d spent there.

_ God, it’s almost one in the morning _ , Link realized. They’d been talking for over three hours. It made sense. They had a lot to catch up on, and he doubted either of them had anywhere they needed to be in the morning. But Link was surprised they’d fallen back into conversation so easily after so many years apart. It was a surprise.

* * *

 

“You’re dating that one model, right? Amber something?” Rhett asked. He thought he noticed Link flinch slightly at the words and he hoped he hadn’t upset Link by asking.

In reality, Rhett knew Amber and Link had broken up ages ago. He’d seen the headline on a tabloid while picking up groceries one day and tossed the magazine onto the conveyor belt to get the full story at home. He never bought into those things, the tabloid press. He knew how easily stories could be manufactured, had seen false tales of how his teammates made headlines for notorious dates and breakups with Hollywood Elite, most of which was just publicity.

But after reading the article, Rhett searched online and eventually found statements from Link himself, so he knew Link and Amber weren’t together.  _ Yeah, but you don’t need Link knowing you were watching that closely. You’d sound like a teenage fangirl _ . He worried if Link knew Rhett had been looking, he’d seem like some obsessed stalker fan.

“No, we, uh… we broke it off awhile ago. She’s a great girl. We’ve been taking different paths and I know she’ll find the right guy for her. I wish her the best of luck,” Link recited rehearsed lines, repeating “She’s a really great girl.” It was almost word-for-word for what Rhett had seen online, and it left him wondering what actually happened. Link clearly wasn’t willing to open up about Amber more than that, his body language closing off his walls.

“Yeah, I hear you,” Rhett said. “Women can be crazy sometimes. Especially those models,” Rhett winked. He hoped it conveyed that he’d been there, done that. Of course, he’d never been with anyone as famous as Amber, but he  _ had  _ dated a model. He was a basketball player in Los Angeles. Practically everyone on the team had dated a model at some point. It was essentially a rite of passage. Older guys on the team would hook new players up with some girl late night at a bar and it was never even questioned. Next thing the player would know, the girl would be listed as a girlfriend in headlines by the sports writers who wrote more gossip than actual sports. It was marketing more than anything, but it also made dating easier. When you were just handed someone, you didn’t have to think about it, about what you wanted.

Rhett realized then that they’d both finished their beers. “You, uh, you want another one? I can get it,” Rhett offered.

“Nah, I think I’m good,” Link said. His eyes were a little unfocused and Rhett figured he was starting to really feel the effects of the alcohol. Rhett wasn’t feeling it at all, but then again, drinks never really hit him hard. He was so big, so tall, he’d have to really hit the bottle hard to actually get drunk. As teenagers, he’d blamed so many things on being  _ so totally wasted, man _ , but he’d never actually been drunk. It just seemed easier to blame stupid mistakes on alcohol after the fact instead of owning up to knowing exactly what he was doing.

Even though they were both done drinking, neither of them made a move to say goodbye for the evening. It wasn’t until last call that they paid their tabs and started to say their goodbyes.

“Did you drive or…?” Rhett let the question trail off.

“Yeah, I drove,” Link said. “But it’s close to home. I’ll probably just walk. I think I’m fine now but better safe than sorry, you know?”

Rhett remembered the time Link’s truck had ended up in a ditch. Rhett had offered to drive, but Link was stubborn and convinced he was more sober than he was. It was a stupid mistake and Rhett never should have let him get behind the wheel, but before anyone found out they’d gotten stuck, Rhett had shoved the car out of the ditch. He made Link give him the keys that day, then drove Link home and practically carried him inside. He was quiet, careful not to wake Link’s mom. Rhett remembered laying Advil out on Link’s bedside table before letting himself out that night. He’d checked the truck with a flashlight to make sure there wasn’t any visible damage on the car, then walked across town in the pale moonlight, getting home just about the time the sun was starting to rise. After that, Link never fought Rhett on driving. They’d always just walk or stay over at each other’s house instead and avoid the situation altogether.

“I can… you know, if you want me to,” Rhett hesitated, “I mean… um. Walk back with you?” He felt strange offering to walk Link home, but he also felt weird walking back home without offering to walk Link. Link wasn’t fully sobered up, instead just generally in the zone of no longer being all that drunk, and Rhett wanted to be sure he got home safely.  _ The last thing I need is him passing out in a ditch _ , Rhett thought.

“Yeah, sure,” Link said. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. It’s no problem.”


	3. Do-over

They walked quietly, neither of them saying much on the way home from the bar. Once in awhile, Link would stumble over his own feet or Rhett would stray slightly off the path he was walking, causing them to accidentally run into each other. As kids, or even as teenagers, they were so used to being near each other that they were often in each other’s space. But it had been years since then, and Link assumed time would have washed that away. Instead, they still seemed to connect like magnets, like there was an invisible force tugging them toward each other before allowing them to move apart only after making contact.

It didn’t take them long to get back to Link’s house. After all, no place in town was very far from the center of Buies Creek, where the bar was. As they approached the house, Link couldn’t help but feel a strange tingle, like he was being walked home from a date. Years ago he wouldn’t have thought twice about Rhett walking him home. When they were younger, it was common practice, the natural order of things. But now it felt awkward, like he should be saying or doing something.

“So, um. Tomorrow morning… I could, uh, come pick you up and drive you back to get your car if you want? Then you won’t have to walk.” If it hadn’t been so quiet in the night air, with crickets as the only interference, Link wouldn’t have heard Rhett at all. He’d spoken the words so softly, barely above a whisper. Years ago, he would have assumed it would have been the plan, but now it was a question.

“Yeah, that would… that would be great. Thanks.” Link stepped up onto his front porch, leaning against the post that held up the awning. The corner of it dug into his back a little bit.  _ Just ask him to crash on the couch, Link _ . He knew Rhett would have to walk all the way across town to get home, and it was already extremely late. Link wanted to offer, but he couldn’t get the words past the tip of his tongue.

He licked his lips as he realized how closely Rhett was standing to him. It was the kind of close one might stand if they wanted to hear someone in a crowded room, but it wasn’t quite touching. It was somewhere in between, somewhere that would have been easily comfortable six years ago. But now age and time had separated them and it was noticeable in the fact that Link even registered how close they were. He didn’t mind being that close, but now he was aware of it.

Link didn’t know what possessed him. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the memories that came flooding back as they stood this close, or maybe it was just being near each other again for the first time in ages. Something in Link wondered “what if?” Before Link could even try to stop himself, to think about it, he lifted up on his toes and closed the gap between his mouth and Rhett’s. He tugged at Rhett’s shirt, pulling him in.

This time, six years later, neither of them backed away.

* * *

 

_ Oh gosh _ . Rhett could feel both of them blushing, waves of warmth radiating off of Link’s skin. He coiled a hand around the back of Link’s neck, running his fingers through Link’s hair.

Link sank into the kiss, letting out a soft groan against Rhett’s mouth as Rhett bit gently at Link’s lower lip. Their bodies pressed Link against the awning post and Link’s hands roamed up underneath Rhett’s shirt, pressing into his skin. Rhett only broke the kiss long enough to move his focus to Link’s jaw, then down his neck.  _ God, I need him. I want him desperately _ . All Rhett could think about was how good Link smelled, tasted. It was like they were made for this, two parts of one whole.

“Stay with me,” Link breathed into Rhett’s ear, and Rhett didn’t hesitate, pulling back so Link could unlock the door and lead them both inside. Neither of them broke contact, not even as Link pushed Rhett onto the couch, straddling him and lifting Rhett’s shirt over his head, throwing it onto the ground.

Rhett could feel Link’s kisses on his neck, then his chest, until Link backed away to toss his own shirt to the floor.

“Link--” Rhett put a hand on Link’s bare chest “--are you sure about this?”  _ Please say yes, please say yes, please…  _ Rhett was worried it was alcohol clouding Link’s brain instead of the result of actual feelings.

“Our last drink was hours ago,” Link said. “I’m sure. I promise. I’m sure this time.”  _ I’m sure this time _ .

Rhett remembered the drunken night years ago, when they were just days away from goodbye. Rhett was overwhelmed and terrified of losing Link. He was heading to engineering school, dabbling in music production as a hobby. Rhett had his own basketball scholarship at another school. They’d spent the summer promising they’d keep in touch, hang out during the summers, swap tales of their lives in separate places. But all of that had changed suddenly with one drunken kiss. One stupid, stupid drunken kiss.  _ Dammit, Rhett. Why’d you have to kiss him? _

Rhett had misread the cues when he’d offered to walk Link home. As Link had stumbled into Rhett, he’d caught him, held him up to keep him from falling over. He’d pulled Link close to steady him, but ended up leaning in and planting a kiss right on Link’s lips. He’d been dying to kiss Link for years, and Link sank into it for a moment before pulling away and running into the darkness, finding his way home alone.

Rhett recalled following him home, not closely enough for Link to notice him and get angry, but close enough to make sure Link made it home safely. As soon as Link was safe inside of his home, Rhett walked home himself. At first he choked back the tears, but before he reached his house, he was sobbing. He’d collapsed onto his bed, angry with himself for getting things so wrong, angry that he’d pushed Link into something he clearly didn’t want, angry he’d ever let Link get under his skin like that.

* * *

 

_ We’ve missed so much time because I was young and stupid _ , Link thought as he kissed Rhett’s stomach. He’d shoved Rhett away the night of his first kiss, wondering what the hell Rhett was doing. They couldn’t be together, Link had reminded himself, God, they just couldn’t. He wondered why Rhett had done it, then for the longest time convinced himself that it was just Rhett’s way of dealing with the fact that they were saying goodbye. But as Link cried into his pillow that night years ago, sobbing at the loss of his best friend and the embarrassment he felt at pushing Rhett away, he realized he was hurt that Rhett hadn’t chased after him. He knew it was so much more than a goodbye kiss.

Link had wanted to drive over and see Rhett then, tell him he was sorry, but he had been so scared. He was scared Rhett would be mad at him for pushing him away. And by the time he got up the nerve and went to Rhett’s house, Rhett was already gone. He’d packed and left for college without a further goodbye.  _ Why did I let him go? _

Now, Link worked his kisses back up Rhett’s body, but a tear slid down his face. It landed squarely on Rhett’s cheek. Rhett pushed a hand to Link’s shoulder, sitting him up to wipe the tears away with his thumb.

“Talk to me,” Rhett said softly. “What’s wrong?” Rhett’s voice was reassuring, soothing, but Link just shook his head. How could he ever form the words to tell Rhett, to explain, to apologize for the six years of silence between them?

“Do you want me to go home?” Rhett asked, searching Link’s face for whatever was bothering him.

“No,” Link insisted, shaking his head. “Please don’t leave me.”

Rhett kissed Link softly this time, void of the lust and desire that had been present in the kisses they’d shared before that. This was different, loving almost, like Link didn’t have to say anything else. Link stood up, leading Rhett to the bedroom and curling up onto his bed. Rhett held him closely and Link closed his eyes, pushing his back against Rhett’s chest. Link prayed Rhett didn’t feel the silent sobs shaking him to the core.

* * *

 

Rhett could feel Link shuddering against him, and could feel the tears that landed on the arm he used to support Link’s head. He wasn’t sure what Link was feeling or why he was upset, but he wasn’t about to push for answers. He feared Link would regret kissing him in the morning and would want him gone, but he tried to force the thoughts out of his mind until Link’s body stilled in his arms. As soon as Link fell asleep, Rhett allowed himself to doze off, too.

The sun peeked through the curtains of Link’s room a few hours later and Rhett’s eyes fluttered open. Link was still in his arms, thankfully, breathing softly with a small smile on his face. Rhett tried to stay as still as possible to keep from waking Link, but as Link rolled over slightly, his hair tickled Rhett’s nose. Rhett erupted with a sneeze and Link’s eyes snapped open.  _ Shit _ .

“I’m so sorry!” Rhett said, smoothing a hand over Link’s arm. “Go back to sleep.”

“Mmm, no. Good morning, bo,” Link smiled. It didn’t seem like he was thinking last night was a drunken mistake at all, which gave Rhett hope.

Rhett heard a growling sound across the house and Link shot up. “Oh fuck, shit, you have to go! You… you have to go. Please call me, but you have to go.” Link’s mom was home and Rhett could figure out exactly why Link was panicked. As teens, Rhett had stayed over a lot, but now that they were grown adults there was no reasonable explanation for the two of them being curled up together in Link’s bed, shirtless.  _ Shit _ , it registered with Rhett.  _ Shirtless. Where’s my shirt?  _

Rhett didn’t have time to search for it with Link already dragging him out of bed and toward the back door. He opened it and started to nudge Rhett out, but tugged at Rhett’s hand and pulled him back, kissing him quickly. He slid his tongue into Rhett’s mouth and his hand around Rhett’s waist, giving him a small squeeze before pushing him back, mid-kiss, breaking it and sending him on his way.

* * *

 

Link shut the door just in time, closing the door behind Rhett a fraction of a second before his mother opened the door to come inside from the garage.

“Morning!” She greeted him cheerfully. “You’re up early today.” She gave him a hug and for a moment, Link worried she might smell alcohol on his breath or Rhett’s cologne on his skin. But she didn’t notice anything amiss as she stepped away from Link to set her bag on the counter, not as far as Link could tell.

She was clearly exhausted from the double shift she’d worked and walked into the living room toward her bedroom. She paused and froze suddenly, scanning the living room. Link panicked.

“Charles Lincoln Neal, pick up your clothes before I wake up. You might be able to afford someone to pick up after you in New York but I’m not your maid,” she snapped. “What did you do, strip on your way back to bed last night?” Her soft chuckle implied she didn’t catch Rhett’s shirt near Link’s on the floor, or at least, didn’t recognize it as anything other than Link’s own.

If he had to, Link figured he could pass it off as him having brought a girl back home the night before. His mother wouldn’t like it, but it seemed better than the alternative of her knowing he’d been making out with Rhett on the couch. She reached down and picked up Link’s shirt, tossing it toward him.

“I can get it, mom,” Link insisted, but she waved him on and picked up Rhett’s shirt.

“I don’t remember this one,” she held it up by a corner. “I’m sure it brings out your eyes.” She tossed it to him also, and he caught it. “I’m going to bed. When I wake up, let’s have dinner together.”

As she reached her bedroom and closed the door, Link let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. She didn’t know. She had absolutely no idea that he’d messed around with his childhood best friend. He felt relief, then sudden pain at the disappointment he knew she’d feel if she had somehow figured it out.  _ This is why we didn’t do this back then _ , Link thought.  _ This is why I pushed him away _ . As much as Link wanted it, he saw absolutely no way for he and Rhett to be together. What started only hours before had to end. Immediately.


	4. Phone Tag

“Hey, you’ve reached me, but I’m… I’m a little busy with other things at the moment,” the message started. Link’s words in the recording were interrupted by a woman’s giggle. It had to be Amber’s. “I’ll hit you up later if you leave me a message.” The phone beeped and Rhett made a mental note to let Link know Amber was still on his message.  _ Maybe he already knows. Maybe that’s the point. _

“Hey, Link. It’s… uh… well, obviously it’s Rhett. Did you need me to come by and drive you to get you to get your car? Give me a call when you can. Okay, bye.” Rhett’s heart fluttered in his chest.  _ Did I call too soon?  _ Rhett had just left, calling minutes after he arrived home, and now he was full of self-doubt. He should have waited, he thought, so he’d seem less eager.

He could still feel the last kiss on his lips, and he pressed his fingertips there gently like it would preserve the moment longer. Had last night even been real? It felt like a total dream, but Rhett knew he’d actually lived it. Rhett smiled, practically giddy at the fact that he and Link had finally gotten somewhere. Anything beat the long silence they’d endured in the six long years since their first kiss, but Rhett had never expected they’d end that silence with kissing, too. No one could have wiped the smile off of his face if they’d tried, he imagined.

* * *

 

Link heard the phone calling and knew there was only one person who would be calling him this early. His publicist had strict orders to never call before eleven in the morning. Link was sure it was Rhett, the only person he knew that would be awake at this time, or that would know he was awake this early. Rhett was probably calling to make sure everything was okay, or asking for his shirt back, or perhaps calling to see if Link needed a ride to get his car like they’d planned the night before.

Link let the call go to voicemail. He couldn’t bring himself to answer, too conflicted over his thoughts. Instead, he pressed Rhett’s shirt to his nose, breathing in cologne and sweat and a smell that was so distinctly Rhett. He felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. Maybe in another universe, this would have been easier. But in this one? How could they ever make it work?

Link thought about what his mother would say, or hell, what all of Buies Creek would think. He thought about the absolute shitstorm it would create with his career and the media. It would be an absolute nightmare. The number of statements he’d have to make would be absolutely mind-blowing. He’d have to tell everyone that all of the years of sleeping around, of dating models… it was all a lie. It had been Rhett in his heart all along, long before their failed first kiss. He didn’t know what he wanted. Or, he did. He wanted Rhett. But that didn’t make things easier.

Link had a new tour starting soon, and he knew himself too well. He’d dive in too fast and too furious with Rhett, show him how he truly felt, and then he’d go on tour. Being gone all the time always ruined his relationships. They’d never see each other, and Link was sure that, once again, it would be an endless string of missed calls and missed connections and missing each other altogether.  _ I’m not putting him through that. I’m not putting myself through it, either _ . Link smelled Rhett’s shirt again, tears running freely down his face.

* * *

 

“Hey, you’ve reached me, but I’m… I’m…” Rhett pressed “end call” before the recording even finished speaking. He wasn’t about to leave a third message for a day.

One missed call and he could assume Link had gone back to bed. Two and maybe Link hadn’t made it to the phone in time. But three times? Link was clearly dodging his calls.

_ He can’t be. Not the way he looked at you. Not the way he tugged you in for that kiss before you left _ . Rhett tried to convince himself there was some other explanation for the missed calls. The knot forming in the pit of his stomach, though, had him convinced otherwise. He started to worry that the night before wasn’t what he thought it was, that he’d misread everything.

In  _ his  _ mind, he and Link and reconnected and it had led to Link deciding that now, six years later, it was time for them to own up to all of the feelings they’d been terrified of when they were younger. But all of those feelings had been six years ago, and they’d been drinking. Rhett figured after he left Link changed his mind.

He paced the room, still gripping the phone in his hand.  _ Don’t call again. Don’t call again. Don’t call again.  _ Calling a fourth time would reek of desperation. He placed his phone on the side table, face down. If Link called back, he told himself he’d play hard to get and ignore the call.  _ Maybe Link is playing hard to get, too _ , he considered. But the more he called Link, the more he figured he’d annoy him and drive him away. Rhett walked away from the phone.

* * *

 

Link pressed the keys on his phone to pull up his voicemail.

“Hey, Link. It’s… uh… well, obviously it’s Rhett. Did you need me to come by and drive you to get you to get your car? Give me a call when you can. Okay, bye.” The first message was sweet. Rhett sounded compassionate, so willing to help, voice full of adoration.  _ God, he’s so good,  _ Link thought. He couldn’t imagine deserving someone so amazing.

“Uh, hey Link. It’s me again. Rhett, I mean. Just calling to check in and make sure you’re okay after last night… Um. Call me when you get this, I guess. Bye.”

Link could hear the disappointment in Rhett’s voice. Link felt a pang in his heart, a panic at how bad he was making Rhett feel.  _ Talk to him. We can figure this out _ . Maybe they could figure out a system that would work during Link’s tour, or he could strategically take trips to LA during an off-weekend or something. He tried to think through anything that would help.

The phone buzzed in Link’s hand. It was Rhett again.  _ Answer it! Talk to him! Tell him how you’re feeling! Let him take you to your car. Something, anything!  _ The phone continued to vibrate.  _ Link, dammit, you love him. You’ve waited six long years knowing you need him. What are you doing?  _ It vibrated once more, then stopped altogether. This time, there was no message, no hope he could cling to in Rhett’s voice. Rhett had given up trying to reach him. Message received, loud and clear.

Link was furious with himself for not answering and slammed the phone down on the nightstand beside his bed. The entire table shook and Link looked down at his phone to see the screen shattered.  _ Fuck _ .

He stood up and left his shattered phone on the nightstand. Link decided to go for a walk to clear his head.

* * *

 

Rhett drove through town without a real destination in mind. He needed to go for a drive and clear his head. Maybe by the time he arrived home, he’d have a missed call from Link.  _ It wouldn’t be a missed call if you’d have brought your phone with you instead of being petty _ , Rhett chastised himself. In an attempt not to seem desperate, he’d left his phone at home and now he was angry that Link couldn’t reach him if he tried. He’d wanted this most of his life, not just the six years they’d been apart.

When he met Link for the first time, he felt like he’d found the other half of his soul. It wasn’t a romantic love then, not when they were kids. They were best friends. As he got older, they’d both dated girls and spent time drinking with friends during the summer, but they’d also cheer each other on at sporting events and spend every waking moment together splashing in the river, sleeping at each other’s houses, and helping each other with homework. He constantly felt drawn to Link.

As teens, when he’d stayed up watching a drunk Link sleep off the alcohol, freezing his own butt off because he wanted to keep him warm, he’d let himself memorize every feature of Link’s face, every curve of his shoulders, every wrinkle of worry that would appear on his forehead as he dreamed.

Rhett was undeniably in love with Link and had been for well over a decade. He’d convinced himself to forget it, had stuffed down his feelings and his attractions with meaningless Grindr hookups he was shocked hadn’t made the tabloids as it was. Now at the first chance he’d gotten to actually see what they could be together, Link seemed to be icing him out.

_ Maybe he’s not icing you out. Maybe he’s just busy.  _ But when Rhett drove past the bar and saw Link’s car was no longer there, it was clear. Link must have gotten his calls and decided to pick up his car alone, turning down Rhett’s invitation to drive him to get it without even bothering to tell him.

Rhett whipped his car around, making a u-turn in the middle of the road without taking time to slow down. He was lucky that it was Buies Creek and there was hardly any traffic or he might have hit someone.

His fingers were turning white from how hard he gripped the wheel. He couldn’t believe Link had let him get close and then left him hanging like that without a word.

_ Fuck you, Link Neal. _

* * *

 

Link pulled his car into the driveway, parking it out front. He’d come so close to turning his car toward Rhett’s house, but when he realized how sweat-stained his shirt was from his walk to the bar, he’d decided to go home and change instead. Just as he got into his room, stripping his shirt, he heard his phone buzzing.  _ Oh thank god, it works _ . He knew it had to be Rhett calling and snatched the phone up, trying to answer.

“Rhett, I’m so sor--”

“Rhett? Who’s that? Like that one basketball player you talk about?” It was Amber, and Link wished he’d looked at the screen before answering.

“Yeah, that one. We grew up together, and I ran into him the other day. We were talking about catching up while I was back home.” Link wasn’t sure why he was explaining this. She likely didn’t care, and it wasn’t anything she needed to know anyway.

“Christ, Linky, I’d swear you were sleeping with him or something the way you’re going on about him,” she giggled, but her tone was sharp.

“I said, like… one sentence about him just now,” Link said, rolling his eyes, but he wondered if she’d picked up on something in his voice. “That’s not going on about him.”

“I was just teasing. Why are you so sensitive, boo?” She asked, but didn’t pause for an answer. “So listen, when are you back in town, baby?”

“I don’t know,” Link said. He was tired of the conversation and he didn’t bother hiding that in his tone. “I’ll probably come back before the tour starts, but I’ll be gone again right after, so I won’t really have time for us to go out or anything.” Link knew exactly when he’d be back in town, but he wasn’t about to give her that information.

“But I’m sober now!” She insisted. He knew she wasn’t. Not even 24 hours before, she’d been snorting coke in a club, completely wasted, but he’d heard this lie before. “I’m going back to rehab and everything.”

“Oh?” He was certain it was going to fail like the last several times she’d been. In and out of rehab, Amber was a pro at “passing” rehab.

“I just want to see you before I check myself in. Please, baby? I don’t know how long I’ll be gone and I’ll miss you,” she begged. Link knew she’d only be there a few days. For her, it was a little like a spa weekend. She’d go, meditate and do some spa treatments before therapy, then check herself out and head home. She was never fully committed to it. It didn’t help that the rehab places she went weren’t exactly get-yourself-clean places but more this-is-good-for-your-image places that she’d go if the press was beating down on her party girl lifestyle a little too hard.

“Amber,” Link sighed, “I can’t do this anymore.” He was tired of the lies, tired of playing the nice guy, tired of her not getting the hint. “It’s over between us and I need you to accept that. I’m really glad you’re getting yourself clean, truly, but I don’t want to see you when I’m home. Go check yourself in now. Don’t wait for me to come back.”

“Fuck you, Link Neal,” she said, then hung up.

* * *

 

Rhett spent most of the day sleeping and only woke when his mother shook him awake. He hadn’t seen Link in two days, hadn’t spoken to him at all. Whatever it was they’d shared that night they spent together was clearly over, and Rhett felt like a complete fool.

He didn’t want to admit to himself how much it hurt to realize Link didn’t feel the same now. He’d loved him for so long, and even though he’d spent six years trying to convince himself he didn’t, everything came flooding back the second he’d seen Link walk toward him on his first day back in town. All of his denial for all of those years crashed around him and he was struggling to get over it.

The last thing he wanted to do was leave his bed. But he knew his mother was worried about him, so he had to put on a brave face and leave his room. All he wanted was to sleep it off.

As he got downstairs, the smell of dinner hit him and his stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten, and he was thankful his mom pushed him out of bed for it.

* * *

 

Link sat up in bed suddenly, jerking awake. He’d been lying in bed trying to sort out what he wanted to do and he’d ended up dozing off. When he woke, one thought was on his mind:  _ I need to see him. _

He wasn’t sure why his mind was so set on it, but he was sure it was what he needed to do. But days later, after Link had ignored Rhett’s calls and hadn’t bothered to return them, he worried Rhett wouldn’t even want to see him. It didn’t matter, though. Link needed to try.

He pulled on a tank top and bolted out of his room.

“Whoa, Link, slow down,” his mother said, stopping him and encouraging him to sit down and eat dinner.

“It looks great, mom, thanks, but I really need to run an errand. I promise I’ll be back soon,” he swore. It couldn’t wait. If he didn’t go now, he worried he’d chicken out.

“No. I’m putting my foot down here. You’re only home for a few weeks and I’ve been working double shifts. It might be the only dinner we have left together while you’re home.” She said it with such conviction that Link couldn’t say no, even if he knew her schedule would allow several more dinners together. He sat at the table and talked to his mom as he ate, but his mind was focused entirely on Rhett.

_ How long have I known how he felt?  _ Link tried to remember when things had shifted between them. The first sign he’d had of Rhett loving him, he was sure, was the kiss he’d convinced himself had been an awkward, drunken goodbye instead of a romantic gesture years before. But Link wondered if they both knew before then. He thought of all of the times Rhett had taken care of him, had protected him, and he started to see it. Rhett didn’t do those things out of nowhere. He did those things because he’d loved Link all along.  _ God, I’ve been such an ass. _

He only had two weeks left before he went back to New York, and Link would be damned if he missed out on another day with Rhett. As soon as the dishes were done, he jumped in his car and drove the once familiar route to Rhett’s old home, then knocked on the door and greeted Rhett’s mother with a smile when she opened it.

“Diane,” he greeted her warmly with a half-hug. “Is Rhett home?”

“Link Neal, I haven’t seen you in years!” She gushed. “Rhett tells me you’re a musician now. That’s wonderful! You’ve always been so talented.” Link couldn’t help but blush.

“Thank you,” Link smiled. “Can I see Rhett now?”

“Sorry,” she shook her head. “He’s out running some errands. I can have him call you when he gets back. Is it still the same number at your house?”

“Do you know where he went?” Link pressed, not answering her question because Rhett knew his number anyway, and if he found him, the phone number wouldn’t matter. Buies Creek wasn’t that big, and if Link could find Rhett, they could talk.

“I’m sorry, Link. I don’t know. He said he had some things to do, but he wasn’t specific.”

Link sighed and thanked her, returning to his car. He had to find Rhett.

* * *

 

_ We have to talk this out _ . Rhett was over waiting for Link to return his calls, past the point of letting Link control the situation without at least getting to talk to him. If Link was going to walk away from a kiss again like he’d done six years before, this time, he was going to say it to Rhett’s face.

Last time, Rhett let him go. But this time he had to have answers, had to hear it from Link that it wasn’t what he wanted. So, Rhett told his mom he needed to run an errand, then slipped out the door and got into the old Dynasty his parents still had. He drove toward Link’s house, praying he’d be home so they could talk.

Instead, Link’s rental car was nowhere to be seen.  _ Dammit _ . It would be too creepy, too stalkerish of him to wait, so he turned around and headed back toward home.

About halfway back to his house, he saw a car that looked remarkably similar to Link’s rental car. Rhett slowed down, seeing a familiar flash of brown hair drive past him, and while he wasn’t sure if he imagined the blue eyes looking back at him or not from that distance, he was certain it was Link regardless.

He watched Link pull his car into the parking lot of the bar they’d met at, leaving Rhett to follow suit. If Link wanted Rhett to leave him alone, it was fine, but Rhett wanted an answer. He reminded himself that he’d let Link go without a fight as long as he got his answer from Link himself, not from a hollow answering machine message.

He needed a clear answer, even if it wasn’t the one he wanted to hear. And as he pulled up to Link’s car, he was going to get it.


	5. Regrettable Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All screen names are intended to be fictional and not real. If they do exist, please don't actually tag them.

“Rhett!” Link called from the car, opening the passenger door as Rhett rolled down the window of the Dynasty. “I need to talk to you!” He struggled with the seat belt.

He’d tried in vain to get Rhett’s attention, but when that didn’t work he decided to turn around. Before he could, Rhett made a u-turn, which led him to pull into the parking lot. If Rhett was looking for him, Link was sure he’d follow, and he’d been right about it.

Rhett got his seat belt unfastened faster than Link did, turning off his car and climbing into the passenger side of Link’s rental, ducking his head to try to fit his large body into the obscenely small car. As soon as he closed the door behind him, he turned to Link. “You’ve been avoiding me.” He said the words with sadness, not anger, and it made Link feel like he’d been punched in the stomach. Anger would have been easier to deal with, but no, Rhett was just sad.

“God, Rhett, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Link’s eyes welled up with tears again.  _ When the fuck did I start crying all the time?  _ Link was annoyed with himself and tried hard to blink back the tears before they started to fall. He hoped the glasses would hide the tears better.

“Why’d you do it, Link?” Rhett didn’t give him a grace period of small talk. He started in on hard questions. “Ignoring my calls, I mean. Did you… did you change your mind? Did I do something wrong? Was I not supposed to call you?” Worry was etched all over Rhett’s face.

“No! Oh gosh, no, it’s… it’s not like that!” Link insisted. “My mom found your shirt and she thought it was mine, and I didn’t explain that it was yours or anything but I realized that I didn’t know how to explain if I needed to. How do I tell her ‘Oh, Rhett left it here because we were making out and probably would have done more than that if I wouldn’t have totally freaked out like a complete idiot and--’” Link was talking too fast and Rhett cut him off.

“Link, slow down.”

Link took a slow, shaky breath. “I tried to answer your call. I thought you were calling again and I answered and it wasn’t you calling me. I was so disappointed, and then I came to find you, but… but you weren’t there.”

“Link…” Rhett sighed and put his hand on Link’s arm gently. “I’m sorry. I forgot about the shirt. We should have been more careful. I’m… I’m so sorry.”

Link still felt overwhelmed. When he’d kissed Rhett that night, he thought he’d acted on impulse, a silly kiss after ruining their first. But when their lips touched, Link realized it was more than that. It was something a long time coming and he wanted more.

It worried him, though, how messy  _ more  _ might end up being. They were public figures, both of them. There was no way for them to be together without the world knowing. It meant his mom would be disappointed. They’d come from such a conservative background that it was hard to imagine it being okay.

Then again, they didn’t live in Buies Creek anymore. New York? Los Angeles? No one there would give a second thought to them being together. And damn, Link really wanted them to be together. But no. His mother had found the shirt, and instead of explaining like an adult, Link ran away from his feelings for Rhett like he’d done years before.

_ Can anyone blame me?  _ Link thought. It was one makeout after a night of drinking and six years apart. But in his heart, Link knew he was sober enough to choose to kiss Rhett and that it wasn’t a mistake. He didn’t want to run. He’d been so broken, so shattered the first time he’d run away from Rhett. It killed him that Rhett had left for college without a real goodbye, and it had taken him years and miles and a lot of alcohol to pretend he’d recovered. Link wasn’t sure who he was kidding. It was Rhett-- there was no way it was ever going to be  _ just  _ a kiss between them, and he’d known it when he made his move.

“Wait,” Link realized something suddenly. “Where were you going?”

“Home from your house,” Rhett admitted. “It… well, okay, it sounds creepy now that I say it out loud, but I was worried I’d scared you off with my phone calls, so I made the dumb choice to show up at your house anyway. I don’t know, Link, I… I thought maybe we needed to talk it out in person.”

“You went to my house?” Link’s eyes widened with the confirmation.  _ He came after me! _

* * *

 

“Yes. Gosh, sorry, crap, I know it seems weird,” Rhett said. He panicked over how surprised Link looked, afraid Link was angry he’d come over after Link had sent a very clear message with the unanswered calls.

“No!” Link said. “Don’t be sorry. It’s just… you… you actually came?”

“Yeah,” Rhett said quietly.

“Even though I was ignoring you?” Link asked apologetically.

“I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve chased after you,” Rhett replied, looking at his feet.  _ Why did I say that? I’m such an idiot. He didn’t need to know _ .

“What?” Link asked. “What do you mean it’s not the first time?”

“I… God, this is so stupid, nevermind,” Rhett said.

“Tell me.”

“The night I kissed you, when you ran away? I followed you to make sure you made it home. You were really drunk and I knew you didn’t want to talk to me, so I left you alone, but I had to make sure you got home safely,” Rhett mumbled. “I went home right after, I swear.”

“Oh my God,” Link said. “I fucked up so bad. Oh God…” Link cursed into the space between them, but Rhett just stared at him in confusion.

“What did you fuck up?”

“I thought I fucked everything up by running away, and I know I did, obviously, because we didn’t even talk for six years but… but you followed me to make sure I was safe? I’m such an idiot!” Link slammed his hand against the steering wheel.

“Hey,” Rhett said, taking Link’s hand. “You’re not. You’re not an idiot, Link. I stayed back so I wouldn’t freak you out. I didn’t expect or want you to know I did it.”

Link pinched the bridge of his nose, his glasses lifting slightly as he did. “I should have known you didn’t hate me. God, I should have known.”

_ Why didn’t I come say goodbye?  _ Rhett asked himself silently.  _ Why didn’t I let us both have closure, let him know I wasn’t mad? _

“Hey,” Rhett smoothed his thumb over Link’s. “Let’s not worry about it. It happened a long time ago,” Rhett said. Link nodded slowly. “I… I hate to ask this, but… but after us never talking about it before, and both of us clearly regretting that, maybe we should talk about where we stand now.” Rhett tried to read Link’s expression and see where he should stop talking. “We spent the night together, but then you dodged my calls, so I don’t know where that leaves us.”

“I don’t know where we stand,” Link confessed. “It’s not that easy, is it? We both go home in a couple of weeks and we’re in opposite corners of the country.” Link pulled Rhett’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “You spent years showing me you cared, years we could have been together, and I was blind to it. But now, when we’re so far apart and everything is so… so fucked…  _ now  _ is when we’re talking?”

“What’s so fucked, Link? That I like you? That I’ve cared about you from the time we were kids? That I never stopped caring?”

“No! God, no, Rhett. But you can’t pretend distance isn’t a factor in this, or that my tour, and your schedule, and… fuck, everything! I can’t figure out how to make this happen in a way that’s fair to both of us,” Link said. “I don’t feel like this can ever be just a makeout for us. I feel like we both want this to be all-in or nothing. Maybe I’m wrong about that.”

“You’re not. It’s not just a makeout for me,” Rhett said.

“Then that’s the thing. You deserve better than this. You deserve someone who can be at your games cheering for you, someone who isn’t gone all the time. I don’t know. I don’t want to start something we can’t finish.”

“So what now, then?” Rhett’s head was spinning. He couldn’t tell if Link wanted more or if this was his way of letting Rhett down easy. Was this something that was over before it could ever start?

Link sighed heavily and leaned his head against the steering wheel. He was still holding Rhett’s hand. “I wasn’t thinking about what would happen after we kissed. I was just thinking about kissing you,” Link said. Rhett felt sick. Link had just meant for it to be a kiss, and Rhett was worried he’d tried to make it more than Link had intended. “But… when we did, it brought back so much. It made me want more time with you.”

_ Oh _ . 

When Rhett had come home to Buies Creek, he hadn’t even known that Link would be there. It made sense, because of the surprise of them both being in the same place at once, that their reconnection had spiraled radically out of control. Rhett was sucked back into the feelings he’d held for all of those years, feelings he’d never fully gotten rid of, but he couldn’t expect Link to feel the same.

It was clear the kiss was more than Link bargained for. Rhett could read that all over his face. But it still left them at a crossroad. Was Rhett getting out of the car and back into his own, heading back to LA in two weeks, back to his real life and reading about Link on tabloid headlines? Or was there something more to the kisses they shared? Link wasn’t giving him anything to go on.

Link looked at him and brushed a hand against Rhett’s cheek, stroking his beard gently before dropping his hand on the console between them. “You go home in two weeks, right?” Link asked. Rhett nodded. “What if we hang out and see what happens, then figure out the rest later?”

Rhett didn’t have to give Link’s offer a second thought. He’d take any moment he could have with Link even if it meant getting hurt when the two weeks ended. He’d spent six long years missing Link as they pursued lives across the country from each other. If nothing else, for two weeks he’d get a glimpse of what he could have had if Link had known he’d come after him all those years ago.

It might hurt, Rhett knew, but he thought it also might tide him over until he found someone, something, to fill the empty spaces Link left behind years ago.

But six years apart and six years chasing different dreams meant they probably didn’t even want the same things they had wanted when they were kids. Link had followed their dream to entertain, albeit in a different way than they’d planned when talking about film school or comedy. And Rhett? He’d chosen the basketball scholarship over the school they could both attend.

_ Maybe we didn’t grow apart because I kissed him _ , Rhett thought.  _ Maybe we grew apart because he thought I didn’t choose him _ . Either way, it was a lot of years to make up for, and Rhett knew they couldn’t make up for everything in two weeks. But Rhett reminded himself that they didn’t have to make up for everything. They just had to take the time they had and make the most of it, and then say goodbye.

* * *

 

Link could tell Rhett was lost in thought. Link had started to speak a few times, but with Rhett staring into the distance, it fell on deaf ears. Maybe the suggestion that they play things by ear wasn’t okay with Rhett. Link couldn’t really tell. It hit him that Rhett might want to be done after days of unanswered calls.

“Earth to Rhett,” Link released Rhett’s hand and waved it in front of his face. When Rhett turned to look at him, finally giving Link his attention, Link shook his head. “Do you want to go get something to eat?” Link had just eaten, of course, but Rhett never turned down food. And with Link wasting almost a week of time he could have been spending with Rhett, he didn’t want to let Rhett get out of the car, spend time apart from him, when they could be figuring things out or at least making some memories before going back to their separate coasts.

“Yeah, food sounds good,” Rhett said. He smiled and settled into the passenger seat. It was so much like the hundreds of times they’d done this as teens -- going for food, cranking up some Merle or Lionel, hanging out. Rhett reached his hand toward the volume knob on the radio. “Do you mind?” he asked. Link gave the go-ahead and Rhett turned it up. He’d been wondering what Link listened to now, if his tastes had changed over the years.

“Wait a second,” Rhett paused and squinted at Link. “You’re… you’re listening to your  _ own  _ music?” He was positive the song was one of Link’s. He hadn’t mentioned it, but he’d memorized his entire discography.

“Am I not allowed to enjoy something I’ve put that much time into creating?” Link smirked, waggling his eyebrows as he drove.

“Don’t you think it’s… you know, a little egotistical or weird to listen to your own music?”

Rhett had asked a valid question, of course, and Link  _ did  _ feel weird listening to his own stuff. It wasn’t something he made a habit of, but with the tour coming up he needed to get back into the mood the album had set. He was listening to give his brain a break from new things he’d been writing, stuff he wouldn’t be performing this time around.

“Tell me this, Rhett,” Link chuckled. “Do you go up to someone who works at Subway and say ‘oh, bro, you can’t eat that sandwich. It’s totally cocky for you to eat what you made since it’s, like, your job to make sandwiches, bro.” Link had affected a deep, goofy voice to pull off the character, and it made Rhett laugh and clutch his chest in a way that was so typically  _ Rhett _ .

“Alright, alright,” Rhett raised his hands in defense. “I’m not complaining. It’s a good song.” Rhett turned the volume up a little louder and rested his arm on the console between them. Link wasted no time in entwining their fingers.

* * *

 

“Do you have big plans when you get back to LA?” Link asked Rhett, waiting for their orders to arrive. They’d picked a casual burger place, something low-key.

“I’ll probably see my trainer about my back. Does that count as big plans?” Rhett quipped. “Then I’ll just pray I don’t get traded to some crappy team in the middle of nowhere.”

“Are there any teams you  _ would  _ want to get traded to? If you couldn’t play for the Lakers anymore, I mean,” Link clarified. What he really seemed to want to know was where Rhett wanted to go if he could go anywhere. The answer was obvious to Rhett. If he could go anywhere, get traded to any team, there was no doubt in his mind it would be the Knicks. But Rhett knew that had nothing to do with basketball or the quality of the team, and everything to do with proximity to Link. Saying that, though, would only put more pressure on them to get this  _ right _ .

“I’m pretty happy in LA, honestly. I like it there. Good team, good staff, heck, even the weather and my place. It’s nice there. I hadn’t really thought about living anywhere else,” Rhett answered. “What about you? What’s next when you get back?”

“I dive straight into touring almost immediately,” Link said. “I’ll probably get a couple of days in the city, but after that, it’s right back on the road. It’s my first headlining tour, and I’ll be gone for four months.”

“Holy  _ crap _ ,” Rhett said. “That’s a long time to be gone.” Rhett was realizing now why Link wasn’t sure this would last after the two weeks. Four months away meant almost no chance of them being in the same city at the same time anytime during the tour. It was discouraging.

* * *

 

“We play games all over,” Rhett said. “But we get time between them for home games and training and stuff. I can’t imagine being gone for that long all at once.”

_ You’re tellin’ me _ , Link thought. He loved touring, performing for a crowd, and he was a little nervous about this one. He’d opened for other bands before, but it was an entirely different experience opening for a crowd there to see someone else versus selling out a large place on your own. It was thrilling, though. And the money was going to be good.

“Yeah,” Link said. “I’m used to touring, but it’s going to be a lot.” As their food came, they transitioned from talking about the future to joking and settling into comfortable conversation from the bar a few nights before. The tension from their time apart melted away. When Link would talk, Rhett would rest his chin on his hand and stare at Link with total focus, hanging on every word he said. It made Link feel special, like Rhett was truly listening intently and caring about what he had to say.

Neither of them paid attention to the camera flash that captured Rhett’s gaze, the way he stared at Link with all of the affection in the world. They were too focused on talking about video games, comparing the ones they were both into at the moment. Video games were Link’s favorite way to unwind, allowing him to sit on the couch and have his focus on anything but his tour, his lyrics, or his crazy ex-girlfriend. It shouldn’t have surprised him that Rhett was into the same games he was, but all the same it left Link wishing they weren’t far apart. He would have given anything to spend that leisure time together, curled up on the couch playing video games.

* * *

 

**Sam**

_ Hey, is that Link Neal? Give me some history so I can play up the story. -S _

 

Rhett’s eyes focused on the text he’d received from his agent and the attached picture.  _ Who took that?  _ Rhett was puzzled -- he hadn’t noticed anything. They’d only left the restaurant fifteen minutes ago, and they weren’t even back to Buies Creek yet when he was getting the message they’d been photographed together. Someone had seen them eating and tweeted it out.

“I hope your fame can handle being seen with some lame NBA player, man,” Rhett laughed nervously, holding the phone into the space between them so Link could glance at it without taking his eyes off the road for long. “Someone tweeted a picture of us from the restaurant.”

“Rhett, I’m sure it will only hurt your reputation a little bit being seeing with me,” Link smiled. Rhett looked at the picture again. It was a good one, one that made Rhett smile. He saved it to his phone so he’d have it later. He honestly didn’t realize that anyone had noticed them, but it was par for the course, he figured. In LA he’d sometimes have fans come ask for a picture, but he assumed it was far more common for Link to get recognized in public.

Sam was right. Being photographed with Link could only help Rhett’s reputation. But he knew that wasn’t what either of them cared about. They’d only wanted time together. The publicity wasn’t even on their mind when they’d decided to get dinner. When Link dropped Rhett back at his car in the parking lot of the bar, he leaned over and kissed Rhett’s cheek.

“Will you call me tomorrow?” Link asked hopefully. “I promise I’ll actually answer the phone this time.”

Rhett promised to call. He wasn’t sure what this was, but he knew he wanted as much of it as he could get in the two weeks they had.

* * *

 

_ Wow. If I didn’t know any better I’d say they were in looooove.  _ -@RMCfan08

Damn, McLaughlin, reign in the heart eyes! -@NBAxAllxStarxMan

_ Who is the guy with @therealMCneal? -@NEALhoe _

Omg! They look like BFFs. -@x5lakersfan5x

_ @AMBERangel isn’t that @therealMCneal? -@sarahjune17 _


	6. Giving Head//Lines

At 8:04, Link looked at his phone.  _ Of course he hasn’t called yet, idiot. He’s probably still asleep.  _ When Link asked Rhett to call, he obviously knew he would. And he was certain that he’d answer this time. He wanted to make the most of every second they had together.

But at 8:04 in the morning, he realized that all he wanted was for Rhett to call right that second. It was silly, he realized. It was too early in the morning to be expecting, or even hoping for, a call from Rhett. He couldn’t help it, though. Their time in Buies Creek, their time together, was running out. He hadn’t been able to sleep all night, wondering when Rhett might call and what he might say.

He felt like a lovesick puppy. He knew it didn’t make sense, that after avoiding Rhett’s calls for days now his hand was hovering over the phone waiting for a call.

* * *

Rhett pulled Link’s number up on his screen, staring at it for a moment. Then he changed his mind, pressing the button on the side of his phone to make his screen go black. There was no way Link would be awake that early, so he figured he should wait to call. Perhaps they could grab lunch or something later, but calling that early was silly. He’d try in an hour, he told himself.

But it kept weighing on him. They didn’t have that much longer, just a couple of weeks, and he wondered if Link would even mind if he woke him up with a phone call. He considered calling again and looked at the time. It was only 8:04. There was no way he’d be awake. Rhett pulled up Link’s contact again, hesitating before pressing the call button, then set the phone back down. He’d have to wait.

* * *

Link started to worry that because he’d ignored Rhett’s calls for days, he might decide not to call at all. The last thing he wanted was to take that chance, so he opened the phone app and tapped Rhett’s number in on his shattered screen. His fingers lingered over the call button and he wiggled them, trying to decide. To call or not to call… before he could hesitate a second longer, he hit the green button.

It went straight to voicemail.

“Um, hey, Rhett. I’m sure you’re probably sleeping. If you are, that’s, well… I hope you’re sleeping well. Anyway, I was, uh, hoping maybe we could hang out together today or something?” Gone was Link’s cool confidence he usually had on stage. “Just, uh… give me a call I guess. Oh, it’s… it’s Link by the way. I mean, you probably already knew that, but… okay, uh… just call me… bye.” Link ended the call.

* * *

Rhett gave up waiting and dialed the number, pressing the green call icon before he could stop himself again. It didn’t ring at all, just went straight to voicemail.  _ Don’t panic, Rhett. It’s not even 9am yet.  _ He couldn’t blame Link for not answering when he was probably sleeping.

“Hey, Link. I hope my call doesn’t wake you. Well, I mean, I guess if it went straight to voicemail then your phone is probably off, so I guess it won’t wake you anyway. I, um, I wanted to know if maybe you wanted to get together today or something? Call me when you get this. Later,” Rhett said. As soon as he ended the call, he noticed he’d missed one.

_ Oh my gosh. He didn’t answer because he was calling me _ . Rhett didn’t even listen to the voicemail Link left, instead calling him back right away. This time, it went through.

“Hey, Rhett,” Link answered. Rhett thought he sounded way more calm and collected than Rhett had in his jumbled voicemail.

“Hey. It looks like we were trying to call each other at the same time. Great minds, man,” Rhett said. He hoped Link couldn’t hear his heart pounding through the phone.  _ Why am I so nervous?  _ “I was just wondering if you wanted to, uh, hang out today?” Rhett felt like a dumb teenager, calling to make plans and hang out without any real idea of what to suggest they do.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Link said. “Want to go fishing?”

Rhett was grateful Link had suggested something, relieving the pressure of figuring out what they should do. The made plans for Rhett to pick Link up in half an hour, with both of them clearly anxious to see each other. Rhett wondered as he hung up if his family had even still kept his fishing pole.

* * *

Link tugged his fingers through his hair, trying to get it to do something,  _ anything _ , that would look decent. He pulled on a yellow tank top with a beachy scene on it, clearly too large for him, but still incredibly comfortable. It was perfect for a hot day next to the Cape Fear River.

It took him no time at all to find his fishing pole in the shed, all of his old gear still right where he’d last left it. For some reason, Rhett’s pole was in the shed, too, right alongside his. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d gone fishing and wracked his brain trying to think. It hit him that it would have been the week before they’d kissed for the first time. Link had never gotten the chance to return his pole to him after that night. For a moment, he wondered if Rhett had bought a new one on one of his visits back to Buies Creek, but he grabbed it out of the shed just in case.

He was ready with ten minutes to spare. Part of him thought about waiting on the front porch for Rhett, but then he felt like it just looked desperate.  _ Yeah, Link, like you aren’t desperate to see him? Sitting on the porch is going to be what gives it away? _

Instead, Link decided to eat cereal while he waited. He’d no more poured the milk onto his Frosted Mini Wheats when he heard a knock at the front door. He rushed to it, opening it. “Hey, want some cereal?”

* * *

Rhett liked how it felt to be side-by-side with Link eating cereal. On the one hand, it reminded him of their shared history, of so many mornings after sleepovers spent just like this. On the other hand, it made him realize how much he longed for a shared future together that included eating breakfast like this.  _ Don’t get ahead of yourself _ , Rhett stressed. Two weeks together was all they were promised, and after six years apart, he had no right to daydream about having Link after that time was through. It wasn’t realistic or likely. This was just an extended goodbye, closure for them both.

Rhett tilted the bowl to his lips and drained it of milk, then wiped his beard on the back of his hand. “We may have to swing by Walmart before we go to the river. I couldn’t find my fishing pole anywhere.” He tried to think of the last time he’d gone fishing, and he was sure it was with Link sometime in the spring or summer before they’d stopped talking.

“This pole?” Link walked over and lifted a pole that had been resting against the back of the couch in the living room.

“Oh my gosh!” He chuckled. “I guess we can go straight to the river, then.” He didn’t want to think about how his pole was probably here because Link had never gotten to return it after everything that happened. Instead, he pushed himself to focus on the present and ignore the past behind them.

* * *

Link snapped a picture by the bank of the river with his fishing pole in the frame. He made a mental note to tweet it out later with a caption about relaxing back home before the tour. He used to share those things right away, but that sometimes led to fans finding him places he’d wanted to relax, so now he just shared it after the fact. It gave fans a peek into his private life, and he got actual peace and privacy still. He took one more picture, this one of Rhett, that he didn’t plan to share. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and sat down next to Rhett on the bank of the river.

“Good idea to come fishing,” Rhett smiled, hooking a worm onto the end of his line. “I haven’t done this in years.”

“I figured this would be a place we could hang out and talk without anyone finding us and snapping a picture without us knowing,” Link said. He hadn’t minded that a fan tweeted a photo the night before. In fact, he wished the fan would have come up and talked to them and asked for a picture with them instead. He lived for the attention. But he didn’t want Rhett to think he was bothered by it. “Not that I minded being photographed with you.”

“No, I get it. It’s nice to have some time just the two of us.”

“Yeah,” Link said. “And since no one’s around, then I’d say it’s safe for me to do this.” Link lifted his hand to Rhett’s cheek and turned Rhett toward him, leaning forward. Their lips brushed. Link wasn’t sure which one of them deepened the kiss, but it took no time at all for Rhett to be lying on his back with Link above him. Their kisses were now passionate and forceful, like they were making up for lost time, breathing each other in.

“We could go swimming,” Rhett suggested the moment their lips parted for them to breathe.

“No suit,” Link breathed back, bringing their lips together again.

“Who needs one?” Rhett laughed against Link’s kiss.

“Good point,” Link said. He sat up and pulled his shirt off over his head, tossing it over a low tree branch. He finished stripping and jumped into the refreshingly cool water. 

* * *

Rhett loved the feeling of the water on his skin, their fishing plans long forgotten as they splashed in the water of the river. It had been so long since they’d been swimming here, and it felt amazing to experience it with Link again.

He swam to Link, wrapping his arms around Link’s slender waist. He pulled him close and pressed kisses along Link’s jaw, neck, and collarbone. As Rhett’s hand slid down to pinch Link’s ass, they both laughed. Link pressed Rhett against the bank of the river and tugged him down into a kiss, biting his lower lip gently as he ran his hand down Rhett’s chest.

“Fuck, Link,” Rhett breathed. Link moved his kisses to Rhett’s earlobe, teasing his tongue against Rhett’s ear as he played his fingertips in circles on Rhett’s lower stomach. “God, Link, I want… oh  _ fuck _ , I want you…”  _ Please, please Link, I need you.  _ His mind echoed the words he was saying aloud, every part of him begging for Link to keep working his hands further down his body.

* * *

The only thing Link wanted was to have his hands all over Rhett, to show Rhett how badly he wanted this, wanted him, wanted everything. His fingers traced circles on Rhett’s stomach waiting for Rhett to give him any sign that it was okay to take things further. As soon as Rhett said the words, Link didn’t hesitate, wrapping his hand around Rhett’s cock and stroking it under the surface of the river.

Rhett had an arm wrapped around a tree root sticking out of the river bank to keep the gentle flow of the river from tugging them downstream, and Link dug his toes into the soft riverbed, his focus solely on Rhett.

He stroked slowly, unsure of what he was doing. He’d dreamed about doing this with Rhett in the years they spent apart, even if he’d never admitted that, but that was the extent of his experience with men. No one had ever attracted him the way Rhett did.

Link imagined what he’d want in this situation, the ways he’d want to be touched, and he echoed those movements on Rhett, flicking his thumb over the tip of Rhett’s cock and listening to the moans Rhett made as he stroked. He changed pace when he thought Rhett was ready and needing more. He could feel Rhett reach out for him and try to return the favor, but he pushed it away.

“Not now,” Link said. “Let me do this.” He wanted his sole focus to be on Rhett.

* * *

Rhett couldn’t last much longer. Everything Link was doing felt like magic, the way he was stroking, touching… Link seemed to know just what he wanted, and responded to each sound Rhett made. “Fuck, that feels so good, oh gosh… fuck…” Rhett’s mouth and mind were a blur of expletives, unfocused on anything but how it felt.

“Oh God, Link, fuck,” Rhett trailed off, tilting his head back and losing his composure.

“Come for me, Rhett,” Link said, pulling Rhett’s head up to look him in the eyes. Rhett saw a flood of emotion he’d never seen before -- passion, trust, desire. His body pulled away from the river bank as he lost his balance, doing exactly what Link had asked him to. He came hard, a deep groan escaping his lips. Link’s hands wrapped around his body to hold him in place against the river, anchoring him as the water threatened to push them both along with the current.

“I… I think we should, uh…” Rhett breathed against Link’s damp hair “...go back to the car now.” He wasn’t sure he had the energy to swim any longer, but he had a few ideas about how to repay Link. He couldn’t do it in the river, though.

* * *

It didn’t take them long to gather their clothes and fishing poles, tossing them into the trunk of the car. It took less time for Rhett to remove the clothes Link had just put back on. 

Rhett had encouraged Link to leave the clothes off, but Link didn’t want to walk back to the car completely naked. Instead, he’d thrown his shorts on and carried his tank top and boxer briefs with him. Rhett looped a thumb in each of the front belt loops of Link’s shorts, tugging them down and off.

Link knew the positioning had to be uncomfortable for Rhett with as tall as he was, but he wasn’t complaining as Link laid his head against the window. Rhett had moved the passenger seat forward to give himself space, but it was still a tight fit, his 6’7” frame folded into the back with Link.

His hand expertly followed the same movements Link had started with in the river, and as he licked his lips, he looked at Link hungrily.  _ Oh god, please, yes…  _ Link ran his fingers through Rhett’s hair, and Rhett seemed to take it as all of the encouragement he needed to flick his tongue over the tip of Link’s cock. When that elicited the response Rhett was hoping for, he wrapped his lips around it. Link couldn’t help himself, further tangling his hands in Rhett’s hair and tugging.  _ Oh fuck... _

* * *

Rhett could feel the seat digging into his side and he knew his back and knees would be stiff and sore later, but it was worth it to see Link’s eyes rolling back in his head. Rhett took Link into his mouth as far as he could, gazing up at Link to take note of every groan, gasp, and shift of his hips. It seemed like Link was having an out-of-body experience, and Rhett was happy to make him come unglued like this. It had been awhile, but apparently he still had it.

He ran his tongue along the underside of Link’s shaft, stroking him with his lips and tongue. He picked up the pace, wanting desperately to make Link feel good. As he used his hand and mouth in sync, he felt Link quiver beneath his touch, and he knew he was succeeding.

“Rhett, fuck, I'm going to come…” It was hard to discern if Link had shrieked or whispered because somehow it seemed like both at once, starting out almost ear-piercing and finishing so quietly, like he'd run out of breath halfway through the words.

It left Rhett little time to respond, so he just continued what he was doing until Link finished. Rhett tried his best to swallow everything, and Link gasped and writhed at the feeling of Rhett’s tongue on his over-sensitive skin.

As he sat up, unfolding himself from the awkward position he’d been in, Link reached out and wiped a small drip from the corner of his mouth. Rhett caught Link’s wrist in his hand, tugging it toward him to lick off what Link had wiped away. Link smiled, his blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight that flooded the back of the car. Rhett twisted to each side, his back popping, and he made the mental note that next time, they needed to do this somewhere other than the backseat of a car, which was far too small for both of their long frames to handle.

* * *

“Wow, that sounded like it hurt,” Link remarked. He felt badly for keeping Rhett in an uncomfortable position for so long just to have his own needs met, but damn, it had felt amazing. He could hardly blame himself for letting Rhett stay where he was.

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” Rhett responded, but Link couldn’t tell if the expression that flashed across Rhett’s face was a smile or a grimace.

“Next time we’ve got to find a bed or something. This car is not big enough for you, man,” Link said, hoping there was a next time, or at least a time where he could return the favor. This time, though, he was yawning, exhausted by the lack of sleep, their swim, and the time spent in the backseat of the car.

“Am I boring you?” Rhett asked, suddenly starting to yawn himself. “Oh no! It’s contagious!” They both cackled and Rhett gripped his chest. It wasn’t that funny, but they were coming down from orgasms and were at an almost slapstick level of happiness.

“I think we just need a nap,” Link said. His mom was working a double shift, so he was sure they’d be able to get the afternoon alone. “Let’s go back to my house,” he offered. They could curl up in his bed and doze for as long as they wanted.

* * *

**SKINNY DIPPING SCANDAL!**

Link Neal’s makeout session with basketball star Rhett McLaughlin: how close are these childhood BFFs?

_ LIPLOCKING LINK: Exclusive pics of his makeout session with LA Lakers player _

MCLAUGHLIN MAKEOUT: Basketball Star unwinds back home with Rapper Link Neal

 

_ @therealMCNeal Telephoto lenses don’t lie, do they? -@AMBERangel _

 

Rhett, are these pics real? Let me know how you want me to handle the damage control. -S

L, I need answers on these pics coming out. Call me.


	7. Caught

“Link, honey, can you come here for a few minutes?” Link’s mother was seated at the old desktop computer in the corner of the kitchen when Link walked in to pour himself cereal for breakfast. His mind was on the previous afternoon still, the way they’d curled up in his bed together, talking and napping for a long time until reprising their activities from the car in a far more comfortable place. Their mouths and hands explored each other in the more spacious bed, and they held each other close like it might be the last time, even though they both knew they had two weeks left together before they went back to their respective lives. Two weeks didn’t feel like quite enough.

“Link,” his mother said, more demanding this time. “Did you hear me? I need you to come here.” Her voice was shaking. Link had been lost in thought and hadn’t realized he hadn’t responded to her.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. What’s up?” He bounded to the computer, resting a hand on each of his mom’s shoulders and planting a kiss on the top of her head before flicking his eyes up to the computer screen.

“Please tell me these pictures aren’t real. They’re edited, right? This isn’t really y’all out there?” his mother asked. Link’s eyes widened as he saw two pictures side-by-side on the screen. The first one showed him pressed against a tree, Rhett’s lips on his neck, and he could feel them there still if he closed his eyes. There was no mistaking who it was; it was definitely them. In the second photo, Link’s rental car was centered in the frame, the windows fogged up.  _ Shit. _

He felt his phone vibrate, so he whipped it out of his pocket. An alarming number of missed calls and texts lined the notifications on the screen, but he’d deal with them later. For now, his mother was waiting for an explanation.

“I… uh… I don’t know what…” Link wasn’t sure how to respond. He couldn’t reassure her that the pictures weren’t real. They very much were. And even though he was a grown man who could do what he wanted, he couldn’t help but feel waves of shame wash over his body. No one wanted their mom to see them in the throes of passion, naturally, but they especially didn’t want their mom, a typical North Carolina, religious conservative woman who raised him in a time when it wasn’t okay for he and Rhett to be this intimate, to see the kind of pictures on the screen in front of her.

“So it’s true? You and… and that boy are…?” His mother couldn’t finish her thought, couldn’t seem to process words for what she’d seen. Her disappointed face said everything.

“Mom, I’m sorry. I’m sorry what we did is upsetting. I’m sorry for hurting you.”  _ I’m not sorry for doing it. I’m just sorry you found out like this.  _ The words came to mind before he could truly think about them, but they were true. He wasn’t sorry for what he’d done. But he absolutely needed to talk to Rhett.

* * *

 

“Rhett, what the hell is this?” A thud landed solidly on Rhett’s bed, a stack of tabloids spilling across the comforter and onto the floor. His father stood there, arms crossed in anger. “I had to buy every paper in town to avoid being the laughingstock of the community, so you had better have a damn good explanation for all of this.”

Rhett blinked and rubbed his eyes, trying to wake up. He picked up one of the magazines, and when he saw what it said, it wasn’t hard to imagine what the other papers and magazines were saying, too.  _ Wow, that was a fast turnaround.  _ Just yesterday, he and Link had shared an electrically-charged moment by the side of the river, and today they were already plastered on magazine covers and in gossip sections of newspapers.

“I… we… we went fishing. The paparazzi must have followed us there.” Rhett knew it wasn’t the explanation his father was looking for, but it said everything he needed to say, and Rhett couldn’t bear to say the words aloud to his disappointed father.

“Yeah? And how much fishing did you get done? Because it looks like you were too busy… too busy canoodling with a man to actually fish!” His father’s rage was obvious, and he stared at Rhett as if he was waiting for him to deny it.

“I’m sorry,” Rhett said quietly, so quietly he wasn’t sure his father had heard him at first. He wasn’t sorry for what they’d done, just sorry for the fact that it clearly upset his father. Rhett wondered many times what his life might be like if things had gone differently, if Link hadn’t pushed him away that night, and now he wondered if this conversation with his father might have been harder when he was younger and less sure of himself. But now, he wasn’t ashamed of loving his best friend. Years spent in California had made many things clear to him, the changes in his own perception changing as he grew older, grew away from North Carolina and his upbringing.

For years, he’d been ashamed of lingering gazes at his best friend, the times he’d spend more time watching Link jump into the river than wanting to swim himself. He didn’t think Link had ever noticed, and for the most part, he liked it that way, didn’t want Link to know how he felt until he was sure of it himself. Rhett recalled late nights where he’d be getting off and realize it was always Link’s face he brought to mind, and remembered how sometimes he’d be so embarrassed and ashamed about having feelings for his best friend that he couldn’t even finish, instead lying there and staring at the ceiling wondering if he was going to hell.

It wasn’t until he was absolutely certain the fear of his family’s anger and the fear of eternal damnation weren’t as important to him as letting Link know how he felt that he’d decided to kiss him, but when Link ran away, he stuffed the feelings back down until he’d gotten to California. Eventually he realized that Link pushing him away wasn’t a sign from God that he was sinning. It meant nothing more than Link not being interested, and as Rhett had let himself come to terms with his sexuality, he’d realized that times he pulled up gay porn in a new browser tab or installed grindr on his phone weren’t things he should be ashamed of at all.

Now, Link wanted this as much as Rhett did. So Rhett wasn’t about to apologize for his feelings or actions. He only felt bad that his father was this upset by it.

“Get the hell out. Pack your stuff, get out, and don’t you ever come back. You want to live like that? You’re not my son anymore.” Rhett’s dad threw the magazine he still held in his hand at Rhett’s face, and Rhett didn’t even try to block it. Instead, he let it hit him, hard, then stood to pack as tears stung at his eyes.

He gathered his things, this time taking even the items he’d left behind when he’d moved to California, pausing occasionally to check his phone. Twitter was full of discussion. He never thought he’d be his own trending tag, but now that his star was so clearly tied to Link’s, there it was. Some people were thrilled, sending messages of support and congratulations. Some people were angry they’d been dragged out of the closet by the tabloids in what was clearly meant to be a private moment alone. Many tweeted how upset they were that these two were together. But the ones that hurt the most restated what his father felt: that he and Link were going to burn in hell.

Rhett liked some of the supportive tweets as he scrolled through, his thumb pressing the little heart for ones that were especially kind, but soon he decided he’d had enough of viewing the hateful ones and decided to finish packing. Anything that didn’t matter, like high school basketball trophies, stayed in place on the shelves. He was sure they’d be trashed soon, but he didn’t care to gather too many memories of this moment, instead packing the things he needed to take and giving up on everything else.

When he walked toward the door, bags in hand, he half expected his mother to stop him and give him a hug. Instead, she stared at the floor like she was trying to burn a hole through it with her eyes. She wouldn’t even look at Rhett. As he walked out the door, slamming it closed behind him, he could hear the phone ringing off the hook.

* * *

 

Link wasn’t sure why his first instinct had been to dial Rhett’s home number, the number he’d memorized as a child and that was still familiar to his fingertips on the keypad of the corded phone in the kitchen.

“Hi, Mr. McLaughlin. Is Rhett there?”  _ Please don’t let them know yet. Please don’t let them know,  _ Link silently prayed.

“Rhett doesn’t live here anymore. Don’t contact him again.” The call disconnected and Link could imagine Rhett’s father slamming the receiver down. If Rhett wasn’t there, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

“Link, this just doesn’t seem right,” Link’s mother had returned to the kitchen and leaned against the countertop. “I’m tryin’ real hard not to be upset, but… but what about that girl you were dating? Is it because of Rhett?” Her voice sounded sad, like she needed the reassurance that her son might still fall in love with a nice woman someday, have children, and wasn’t really in love with his best friend.

“Amber is in rehab all of the time. She… she needs some serious help that I can’t give her. That has nothing to do with this, or with Rhett, mom. Amber and I were over long before I came back home to visit,” Link shook his head.

“But there are other nice girls, right? I’m sure you’ve met plenty of them. Isn’t your manager a girl? Don’t you like her? Or… or… who was that girl you talked about that one time when you were home?” He could tell his mother was desperately clinging to hope. If he let her, she’d probably stand there all day listing off every girl he’d ever met in his life.

“Mom, stop. Okay? Just stop. This has nothing to do with girls I’ve dated before, and everything to do with the fact that I love Rhett and want to be with him. I have since I was a kid. You can introduce me to a million girls, or bring up every girl I’ve ever known, but it doesn’t change things for me.” As much as Link hated to drag anyone through the hardships or a tour, deep down he really did love Rhett and wanted them to figure something out. Years apart had never managed to dull their connection, not really. It only made things burn stronger and hotter between them, and after their afternoon together, the lingering kisses and glances, soft touches and cuddles closer, Link knew if he was going to make it work with anyone during a tour, it would be Rhett.

His mother didn’t have time to respond to him before the doorbell rang. Link started toward it, but his mother stopped him, stepping between him and the door. “No. I need to get this,” she insisted. “You need to go eat something.” It was her making it clear that he wasn’t welcome to open the door to whoever might be on the other side, her less-than-subtle way of protecting him from a neighbor who wanted to know the gossip or paparazzi who had followed him home. Perhaps, Link imagined, it wasn’t to protect him, but instead to save face.

Link watched from the kitchen as she barely cracked the door open, the chain lock still firmly in place. “Now isn’t a good time,” she insisted, then closed it again. Link’s phone buzzed again, and this time he turned it off without looking at it.

* * *

 

Rhett wasn’t sure where to go. Going home was no longer an option, and Link’s mom wouldn’t let him in. It left him with only one option, only one place that made sense. Tears streamed down his face since no one was there to see him cry. Rhett wiped his hand across his face, composing himself before dialing his agent’s number.

“Can you call and get me on the next flight out of here? It’s Rhett,” Rhett demanded, not even waiting for a hello, just waiting for the call to connect and speaking as soon as it did. “No, I really… now is a bad time to talk about it. I just need to get back to California as quickly as possible.” He paused, waiting to hear the response. The clacking of a keyboard in the background said she was looking as quickly as she could. “Yeah, that’s fine. Coach is fine. It doesn’t matter. Honestly, whatever the next flight is… no, yeah, I’m fine. Please?” Rhett spoke in short sentences, dodging questions and requesting answers. “Text me the info. Thank you. Seriously, thank you.” As soon as he hung up the phone, more tears fell from his eyes and he didn’t try to contain them.

Rhett knew it was cowardly, leaving without even calling Link, but when Link’s mother shut the door in his face, part of him wondered if Link had asked her to. Maybe Link regretted everything again like he had the first time around, when he’d initially dodged Rhett’s calls. If Link really wanted to talk to him, they could always talk when Rhett got back to California. Link knew his number. Rhett pulled into the airport just as his phone dinged with an email confirmation of his flight.

There were other notifications on the screen, but Rhett ignored them.

* * *

 

Link tried to talk his mom down, but when he’d told her that it was Rhett or nobody, she went to her room and locked the door. He could hear her crying, but she wouldn’t answer when he knocked. He didn’t want to leave the house, didn’t want the paparazzi to follow him as he wandered to clear his thoughts, so instead he went to his room and stared at the ceiling. He had come home to spend time with his mom, take a break. But if his mom refused to talk, Link wondered why he was even here.

Rhett wasn’t home, and Link figured his family had made him leave by the way his father worded things on the phone. His mother refused to tell him who came to the door, and the only reason she’d have done that, Link imagined, was if it was Rhett. Every fiber in his being wanted to run out that door after Rhett, but the look on his mom’s face made it clear it wasn’t a good idea. Rhett would hopefully understand Link’s unwillingness to run after him if it meant sparing his mom’s feelings, if only for a little while.

Link tossed and turned in his bed for an hour, but when a nap proved elusive and he wasn’t sure what else to do, he turned his phone back on. He clicked through text messages from friends, most of them supportive, basically all of them shocked, and a few of them angry. Even in an industry that seemed fueled by creativity and openness, some people would never accept who he was.

It was a tough decision, but one he made quickly: Link deleted the unsupportive texts, blocking the numbers completely. He had no room in his life for that right now, no room for people who couldn’t accept him. He knew better than to check Twitter at all, knowing there’d be a massive amount of fall out there as it was.

Instead, he texted Rhett.

_ Are you okay? I’m sorry if the pictures screwed everything up. _ __  
_ I didn’t even notice them being taken. _ _  
_ __ I miss you.

He erased the last sentence, then added it back and hit send before he could second-guess himself again. He waited, but the message never showed as delivered. Maybe in the fallout, Rhett had blocked him.

* * *

 

As Rhett walked down the aisle of the airplane to a back row, he noticed a few women with their noses buried in tabloids, his own face slapped on the cover. Thank god no one was looking right at him, the last passenger scrambling onto the flight just before takeoff. He stuffed his carry-on in an overhead compartment several seats ahead of his own, in the only space that still had room.

When he found his seat, he unfortunately had to make the passenger in the aisle move. He crumbled his body into the small space available, wishing he’d gotten an aisle seat where he could have stretched his legs slightly more. That was the price he paid for trying to get back to California right away, with no other options of places to go.

Rhett tried to make himself as small as possible, curl up and slip into his own little world, pray that no one recognized him. As he turned his phone off, he was sad to see Link hadn’t texted him at all. He wondered if Link’s mom hadn’t told him that she’d shown up at their door, and he wondered what Link thought about everything that happened. Mostly Rhett wondered if Link saw the hashtag and the hateful tweets sprinkled between the supportive ones.

He wanted to tell Link he was sorry for their secrets being splashed over the front page of every magazine possible, but he couldn’t. And now he didn’t have time to send a text saying goodbye before having to turn his phone off.  _ Oh well,  _ Rhett figured.  _ I’ll text him when I get there. _

* * *

 

Link checked his phone every hour or so to see if his message had been delivered, or to see if Rhett had replied and he’d somehow missed it. Every time he looked at their text conversation, though, it wasn’t reading as delivered. After the fourth hour of checking, Link was sure Rhett had blocked him. It didn’t matter-- he’d send one more text and call it good.

_ Rhett, can we please talk about everything? I’m so sorry for dragging you into this. Call me. _

Link waited and waited, but that message stayed in limbo, too. Link scrolled through twitter, then stalked Rhett’s profile. A few of the tweets Rhett had liked recently were supportive ones, tweets about how great it was that he and Link were together, or ones saying people were happy to have positive LGBT+ role models. Link found himself smiling and liking those tweets, too. If Rhett was liking supportive tweets on Twitter, Link was sure there was some other explanation to the lack of response.

So Link did the only logical thing. He grabbed his keys, knowing the only way they could talk was if he found Rhett. He drove around town, seeing no sign of Rhett’s car anywhere. Not at the bar, not at Walmart, not at Rhett’s house. He wasn’t surprised by the last one, not really. Even a drive to the river proved fruitless. If Rhett was in Buies Creek, they were either crossing paths and missing each other, or Rhett was amazing at avoiding him. After an hour of driving, Link gave up entirely, heading back to his house. As he pulled into the driveway, his phone buzzed.

_ I went back to Cali. I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. I tried. I’m sorry, too. I should have been more careful, but I’m not sorry we did it. _

_ I’m not sorry we did, either. Just sorry I messed things up and we didn’t get the rest of our time together. _

_ You didn’t mess it up. Will I get to see you again soon? _

Link wasn’t sure how to answer that one. He hoped so. A large part of him wanted to catch the next flight to California, spend the last of his break before the tour started with Rhett. He started to reply and ask if he could see Rhett in a few hours, but when his phone vibrated again, this time with a text from his manager, he knew the only answer was to go back to New York and do damage control.

One of his opening groups had already pulled out of the tour and a hate group was threatening to picket their midwest performances. He texted his manager and let her know he’d be back in New York the next day so they could figure everything out together.

So as much as Link wanted to text Rhett saying he’d be in California before sunset, he did the responsible thing and sent a reply that broke his heart to type.

_ Soon, okay? I promise. I’m going back to NYC tomorrow but we’ll figure it out. _

More than anything, he wished he could fly Rhett out to NYC if he couldn’t make it to California, but he knew Rhett had likely left to do his own damage control. Inviting him out wouldn’t help matters at all, so instead, they had to settle on “soon.”

* * *

 

Trending: #LNRMComingOut

“That’s so disgusting. Getting so sick of this being shoved in my face everywhere I look. #LNRMComingOut”

“How do I explain to my son that his hero is kissing a man? Gross! #LNRMComingOut”

“Oh my gosh! They’re so cute together! #LNRMComingOut”

“Well, ladies, I guess our chance is over. #LNRMComingOut”

“Wow, TMZ. New low. This was private, and you dragged them out of the damn closet. #LNRMComingOut”

“Wait, so you’re saying I have a chance with .@theRealMCNeal? #LNRMComingOut”

“So glad to see such positive icons in the LGBT+ community! #LNRMComingOut”


	8. Poster Child

“This could be great as an awareness campaign. Like, uh, what’s the thing Major League Soccer does? ‘Don’t Cross the Line’? We could pull in some other basketball players like… like Collins, or maybe pull in some guys from colleges or something.” Rhett’s agent was dead-set on using the photos that had come out as a way to make waves for discussion in the industry, flip everything into positive PR. In her mind, Rhett could be the poster child for successful gay athletes.

“I’m not… I’m not really sure I want to, uh, make a big thing of this. It was just a few pictures. That doesn’t make me a spokesperson or anything. I don’t really uh… I don’t want to be the gay guy. I want to be the guy who is good at what I do.” Rhett had his share of hookups, but he’d only ever really  _ loved  _ Link. Loving one man wasn’t enough to make him ready to speak for all gay athletes like his agent seemed to want. “Can we go back to me being McLaughlin the basketball player and not make a huge deal of who I happen to be sleeping with?”

“It’s my job, as your agent, to think of what’s best for your career. I’m supposed to take situations and put the best possible spin on them. You’ve picked the right person to attach yourself to, someone famous and popular. Did you see the trending hashtag? You were a big part of that, but most of that was Link Neal’s fame. Making it a campaign helps you look like an ambassador for other athletes to let them know it’s safe to come out if they feel they’re not ready.”

“ _ I  _ wasn’t ready! Do you really think the way I planned to tell my family was by them seeing it on the cover of every tabloid in town? This was my secret, and it was blown to hell because we were famous!” Rhett yelled. “The only thing I want to tell a young athlete is not to get famous or hook up with anyone famous unless they want the whole fucking world to know about it!”

Rhett was annoyed. He was too exhausted to want to think about this discussion right now anyway. All he wanted was to go home and sleep. He hadn’t talked to Link, not since Link told him they’d see each other soon. They both had their own things to sort out and their own messes to clean up.

And here, his agent wanted to push an angle of a relationship that Rhett wasn’t even sure  _ was  _ a relationship yet. Link had only ever agreed to them spending the time they had together, and they ended up not even getting that much. Rhett wasn’t going to make any publicity decisions without talking to Link, and the thought of bringing that up intimidated him. “Hey, Link, my agent totally wants to make a big campaign about gay athletes and wants our relationship to be the center of that, so what do you say, are we going to be a couple? Because these posters about acceptance that need to go in every locker room in the country aren’t going to print themselves.” It didn’t seem as simple as that, so Rhett wasn’t exactly on board.

* * *

Link had scrolled through page after page of comments on his most recent music video on YouTube. Any of his songs that were even remotely romantic were now flooded with comments asking if the song was about a guy or about Rhett specifically.

The song he’d written about a girl wearing his over-sized tee shirt, sitting next to him while he played Grand Theft Auto? Suddenly, his fans and haters alike theorized it was Link wearing the tee shirt, because how could Link’s tee shirt ever be oversized on Rhett, and Link had written the song from Rhett’s perspective about himself.  _ How conceited do people think I am? _

For any of Link’s songs that included references to sex, people were suddenly questioning how Link knew what sex with a woman was like.  _ Why the hell do you care so much?  _ Obviously his relationship had been well-publicised, so he wasn’t sure why everyone assumed he’d never been with a woman before.  _ Did everyone forget bisexual people exist?  _ The words hit him before he could process them completely. He’d never considered a label or a word for what he felt.

Link closed YouTube and opened a new tab of his browser, typing “definition of bisexual.” He logically knew what bisexuality meant, but he wasn’t positive it described him. He’d cared about Amber, and he was certainly attracted to her, or had been at one point in time. He cared about Rhett, too, was in love with him if he was being honest with himself, and he was certainly attracted to him as well. That much was obvious.

Link knew he’d been attracted to more men than just Rhett and more women than just Amber. It led him to erase his first search from the bar, instead typing “how do I know if I’m bisexual?”

He spent an hour reading page after page of content, still feeling unsure and wondering why he even felt the urge to define how he felt. He’d never needed a word for what he was before, but he had a feeling his manager would press and he knew how much easier it would go if he could tell everyone clearly “this is who I am, and the songs I wrote about women were about women, and the songs I’ll write about men will be about men, but I may write songs about men, or women, or both in the future.”

He stumbled on something called a Klein Orientation Grid and clicked on it. The site explained sexuality changing over time, and that made sense to Link, or made him at least feel like he could change how he defined himself. Perhaps he was straight when he was with Amber, or perhaps we was bisexual and just happened to be interested in women at that point. He wasn’t really sure.

Link was curious enough to take the quiz online, see what it said. “Sexual attraction… who turns me on as a real or potential partner… hmm.” Link read the questions out loud to his empty apartment. The quiz had spaces for him to put answers for his past, present, and future. At first, he started to say “other sex only” for who he was attracted for, before realizing he’d been attracted to Rhett even when he’d run away from him, and he’d been attracted to other men before, too. He decided to put it somewhere near the middle instead.

Clicking the button to process the results, Link held his breath for a moment. He wasn’t sure why he did it, but he did. These results felt life-changing, even if they were only going to confirm what he already knew. “Equally heterosexual and homosexual,” the test results read.  _ That… sounds pretty bisexual to me.  _ Link closed the window and stared into space for a few minutes, trying to process the answer, saying it out loud a few times. “I’m bisexual. I’m… I’m bisexual.” It felt like he was trying the word on for size, seeing if it would fit.

He picked up his phone, scrolling through his contacts to message his manager and see how they planned to move forward with the tour and see if they needed to publish a press release. But when he saw Rhett’s name, he couldn’t help but linger over it.

* * *

“I need to take this,” Rhett said, standing and stepping out of his agent’s office and into the hallway. “Link? How are you?” Rhett rushed the words out. It felt like it had been so long.

“I’m okay. I miss you.” Link sounded tired and sad.

“I miss you, too.” Rhett considered bringing up the campaign his agent had suggested, asking Link where they stood, but he decided against it.

“Hey Rhett? I need to, uh… I need to tell you something.”

“What’s that? You know you can tell me anything.” Rhett could hear his own heartbeat in his own ears and he started to worry. Maybe Link was deciding to tell him it was over. Maybe it was a good something. Maybe it was a terrible something. Rhett had no idea. Either way, the silence on the other end of the line was killing him.

“I think I’m bisexual.”

Rhett snorted, unable to hold back his laughter. “Oh my gosh, oh gosh, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. I mean… I just… not to label or anything but I had assumed that much,” Rhett said. “You were with Amber, and then you were with me, so… I mean… I guess that doesn’t necessarily make you bi, but…” Rhett let himself trail off, hoping he hadn’t offended Link by laughing. No one had ever come out to him before, and he wasn’t quite sure what to say when someone he’d slept with did it.

“Well if you knew, smartass, why didn’t you tell  _ me? _ ” Link laughed, and Rhett felt relief wash over him. “Seriously, though, I do have a press release to prepare, or some sort of statement… something. Or an interview, I’m not really sure. People are asking questions and thinking I don’t know what it’s like to be with a girl because you and I are a thing, and I need to somehow tell people that my boyfriend now doesn’t change the fact that I’m not necessarily, like, you know? I don’t know… I can’t think of the words I want to say right now. I just want people to know that because I’m with you doesn’t mean I wasn’t happy with or attracted to my ex-girlfriends, but I don’t want you to think that me clarifying that for the press means I’m not happy with you and that you don’t fire all of my cylinders because seriously, you do, and will you please say something and shut me up now that I’m rambling?” Link took a sharp inhale of breath that was audible through the phone, having not taken one the entire time he was speaking.

“Link?”

“Yeah?”

“...are we together?” Link had said so not once, but twice, even calling Rhett his boyfriend in the jumble of words he’d blurted out. Rhett was positive he’d heard it. But they’d never discussed it firmly, always only planning on two weeks together and it being over.

“Oh shit, I guess we didn’t talk about it, did we?” Link gasped. “Do… do you wanna be?”

“Yeah, Link. I do.” Rhett had never wanted anything more in his life.

* * *

“You know the tour is still going to be a living hell, right? We’re not going to really see each other for months, and there are probably going to be days we can’t talk at all. Are you sure you… like… are you sure I’m… are you sure it’s worth it? I don’t want you to get hurt.” Link was terrified he’d gotten ahead of himself, telling Rhett they were together at the one time in his life he shouldn’t be with anyone.

Tours were insane. They were a perfect storm for jealousy because girls, and now that things had been revealed, probably guys, would be throwing themselves at him every night. That wasn’t Link being cocky. It was just the reality of things. At the same time, Link wanted nothing more than to be with Rhett, and if that meant hiccups along the way because of a tour only for them to end up happy together afterwards… so be it.

“I know,” Rhett said. “It’s okay. It’s alright. We’re going to work it out,” he soothed through the phone. “I need to talk to you about something, too.”

“Yeah, of course,” Link answered. “Anything.” He was happy to listen to Rhett, especially after Rhett’s reaction to his coming out left him feeling so much less nervous about everything.

“My agent wants me to do a campaign. You know, like… a thing for gay athletes. Basically they want me to let younger athletes know that it’s okay to come out and that the NBA is a safe space for LGBT+ individuals,” he explained. “If I agree to it, they’ll probably be playing up who I”m with and want to get your name involved. I don’t want to say yes if you’re uncomfortable with that. I mean, I’m not sure I even want to do it at all, but before I even consider it… I just… I want to be sure you’re alright with it.”

“Rhett, you and me? Everyone knows. Whether or not you do the campaign, we’re out there. And you don’t have to do it, but if you want to, I am behind you completely. If you’re in, and you need me to be in, then I’m in, okay?” The least Link could do was support Rhett in this. They were in it together, or they may as well not be in it at all.

“Okay, I’ll let you know what I decide. I have to go, though. I’ve got practice in an hour.”

“Practice?” Link asked. He thought they were still on break, which was why Rhett should have been in Buies Creek at that point, and planned to be until things got shot to hell.

“Coach said if we were in town, we should come practice, so I figured I’d make it to as many as I could now that I’m back. I miss you, though.”

“I miss you, too,” Link said. “Bye.” He hung up the phone, then opened his texts and pulled up his most recent thread with his agent.

_ It’s time to set the record straight. Or, bisexual. Let’s get this game plan figured out. _

Before waiting for a response, and before setting his phone down, he scrolled through his contacts one more time before landing on “Mom.” He didn’t need the contact in his phone -- he knew the number by heart -- but he needed to call her.

It rang several times. Link was positive she’d ignore him, sure the phone was about to go to the answering machine, and if it did, he wasn’t sure what he’d say. Instead, his mother suddenly picked up on the last possible ring.

“Hello?”

“Mom?” Link exhaled a sigh of relief, happy she’d picked up. “How are you?”

“I’m holding it together. It seems like everybody has a million questions for me all the time, askin’ me how I’m handling my son being gay, and you can’t turn on any of the news shows without it being on there.”

“I’m… I’m not gay, mom,” Link responded, trying to calm her frustration but also tell her things that he was long overdue to tell her.

“You’re not? But you were… you were doing whatever it was you were doing with Rhett,” she replied.

“I’m… um…” the words weren’t coming easily to his mother, not the way they’d come easily when he was telling Rhett. He knew Rhett would understand, but his mom, Link knew, would be heartbroken. At the very least, he hoped maybe she’d feel better about the truth than thinking he was gay. “I’m bisexual.”

His mother gasped, then stifled a cry, but it didn’t matter. Link knew she was still upset. “Is there any difference if you’re having sex with a man?” It felt like she’d spat the words through the phone, and Link flinched at the way she was speaking. Clearly it hadn’t made it better.

Link had taken time to process his own identity, do research about it, really think through who he was. But his mother hadn’t been given the same opportunity to process it, and Link felt for her. The world was getting more and more accepting, but North Carolina had a long way to go to catch up, and Link knew it wasn’t easy back home for his mom right now.

Buies Creek hadn’t been shaken with a scandal like this in forever, probably not since the baseball coach and his assistant coach were practically chased out of town for the community. Even then, they’d told the kids it was because of his eastern religion karate teachings, but in hindsight, Link could see the truth. Buies Creek didn’t handle men loving men very well, and Link’s mother needed time to wrap her mind around it.

“I know it’s going to take time, mom. I just hope that you’ll forgive me for not growing up the way you thought I would,” Link confessed. He had nothing to be forgiven for. He knew what he was doing was right, that love was right, but for some reason, he felt the need to ask his mom for that forgiveness anyway. “I love you, mom.”

“I love you, too,” she choked the words through the phone.

“I know this is a bad time, mom, but I have to go. My manager’s calling. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay,” she sniffed. Link’s heart broke. He switched calls, taking the one from his manager and trying his best not to think about his mother on the other line.

* * *

“I need time to think about it.” Rhett wasn’t ready to agree, and he wasn’t ready to make himself the main example about this to the world. He needed some time to process before his face was thrown onto motivational posters in locker rooms. He thought back to the kind of words that got thrown around in the locker room, even worse when he was a kid in school, and he shuddered at the thought of what might be written on those posters, how they’d be defaced in high schools and colleges.

He wondered what would be more damaging to a young, gay athlete: no representation at all, or having the only representation you had get covered in slurs and Sharpie-drawn penises, making you feel like it wasn’t safe even if a basketball star was gay, too.

He grabbed his bag and drove to the stadium instead, hoping to avoid LA traffic on the way. The practices weren’t required, instead something the coach offered to keep them in good form in the off-season, but he still didn’t want to be late getting there.

As he changed in the locker room, he felt a smack land firmly on his ass. “Hey, McLaughlin, heard you were getting some while you were back home!”

“Shut up, man,” Rhett responded. Carl may have been one of his best friends on the team, but the comment rubbed him the wrong way after the morning spent talking about a potential campaign set up over who he chose to sleep with.

“Hey, sorry, it just seemed like you’re really happy, and… I mean, you were whistling to your music. I hadn’t heard you do that in a while.” It was true, Rhett loved to sing or whistle when he was in a good mood. He hadn’t been as happy before he left for home, and he didn’t realize how much that showed to the people who knew him best.

“Thanks, man.” Rhett put his hand on Carl’s shoulder to sneak past him, grab his deodorant from behind where Carl was standing. But before he could reach for it, he heard a muttering from across the room, a slur under his breath. Rhett whipped around, facing the source of the comment. “What’d you say?”

“You heard me.” Rhett knew what he’d heard, the slur escaping his teammate’s lips, but he’d wanted not to believe it, to give him a second chance to correct himself and change what he’d said. Instead, his teammate repeated the slur again, louder this time.

Rhett dove across the room, grabbing Troy by the jersey and slamming him against the wall hard. “You want to fucking thing twice about what you said?” Rhett’s blood was boiling, rage pounding in his ears. He pulled his arm back, hand curled tightly into a fist as the coach grabbed his arm.

“Is there a problem in here?”

Rhett yanked his arm out of his coach’s hand, waiting for Troy to make it clear what was said. Instead, Troy looked panicked, like he was the victim in all of this. The silence loomed over the room, leaving Rhett only one option that he could see. He grabbed his bag, stormed out of the locker room, and let the door slam hard behind him.

Rhett walked through the maze of doors until he reached the one that led him out of the building, into the blinding sunlight and toward the car. He pressed a few buttons on his phone, dialing the number and activating the speakerphone as he started his car.

His agent barely had time to answer the phone before he snapped “It’s McLaughlin. I’m in.”

* * *

LOCKER ROOM TALK: SHOULD GAY ATHLETES BE ALLOWED IN THE SAME LOCKER ROOM AS OTHER MEN?

MCLAUGHLIN ANNOUNCES NEW CAMPAIGN ON BULLYING AND LGBT+ ATHLETICS

LINK NEAL COMES OUT: ROMANCE WITH AMBER JUST A COVER?

“.@RMC08 thank you! We need more athletes supporting LGBT+ athletes and youth!”


	9. LDR

Link wasn’t entirely prepared for what agreeing to talking this out publicly would mean. Television appearances weren’t helpful. The midwest was practically pulling out of concerts left and right and the headlining band threatened to drop him altogether. If he wasn’t careful, his career could tank. Rhett texted him and asked him how he was, and at first, he left it on read. How did he explain that the best thing to happen to him, finally having Rhett, was turning out to be one of the worst possible things professionally?

It wasn’t helpful. When he did reply, he told Rhett he was okay, still trying to figure out what was going to happen now that he was out and open. Rhett’s replies helped, but texts only did more to show how far apart they were. All Link wanted was to drop everything, get on a plane, and leave everything behind to see Rhett. But he couldn’t. He had a press tour to deal with.

First was Ellen. At least she was understanding, accepting of him. She focused on his career, the upcoming tour, slipped in a few quick questions about Rhett and how it felt to be out, and Link did his best to spin it all positively. If he was being honest, everything after that was a blur… it was show after show, filmed back-to-back, bite sized pieces of his day chunked away to talk to the media. Why? Because suddenly, he was more important than he used to be. Everyone had to know everything he was doing.

But everyone wanted to focus on one thing: who he was sleeping with.

They’d all slept on him until something interesting happened. Sure, he’d been in the press and he’d done press circuits and tours before. It wasn’t his first time on Jimmy or Jimmy or whatever other late night shows he could wiggle himself onto. But now, no one cared about his career.

Everyone only cared about who he was fucking.

* * *

In their first week apart, reaching Link was next to impossible. Rhett tried, but got messages that were read and not responded to, went hours before a reply, spent time questioning himself. Had he gone public only to have Link ghost him? Had Link changed his mind?

He would have worried, would have felt insecure, if he didn’t see the full spectrum live and in color on the front pages of every magazine in America, every television show, every appearance. Tabloid news online discussed tour dates being cancelled and Link’s life being absolute hell, but television appearances showed otherwise -- he talked about Rhett, and Rhett ate up every word, every description of how they’d reconnected after years, and how Rhett had always felt like a lost love to him, and now he had his soulmate.

“Isn’t that a big thing to say?” Ellen had asked him. “Soulmate, that can’t bode well for the future!” she laughed.

“I don’t think it’s too bold at all,” Link said, and his face grew earnest, serious, his previous laughter dying down for a second. “I’ve always known it would be him. From the time we were kids, I knew that. The thing is, I think we almost needed that time apart to realize it, sort of jolt us back together. Once we were together, it was pretty obvious.”

There Link was, on television, calling Rhett his soulmate. The thing is, he was sharing with the press words he’d barely let Rhett know himself. Part of Rhett worried, felt insecure that it was all press and promotion and none of it was real. The other part of Rhett turned the word over in his heart again and again.  _ Soulmate. _

* * *

 

**_Call me?_ **

The text lit up Link’s screen and he picked up the phone in the darkness of his apartment. It was nearly 3 in the morning, with the time difference something he and Rhett hadn’t quite gotten the hang of yet. Either way, he wiped the sleep from his eyes and sat up in bed, dialing the number. “Rhett?”

“Hey. Oh! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think about the ti--”

“Babe, it’s fine,” Link said casually in the phone. It didn’t bother him. He’d rather be awake talking to Rhett than tossing and turning, the fitful night not doing him any favors. “What’s going on?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Rhett said. Link smirked, thinking  _ yeah, it’s only 11, of course you can’t.  _ But of course, Rhett was the kind of guy to go to bed at that time. Link was used to late nights and clubs and concerts that ran long, afterparties that took time.

“I couldn’t either,” Link told him.

“You were clearly asleep when you called.”

Rhett had called him out, heard the fatigue in his voice. “I haven’t been able to sleep much tonight. Or lately at all,” Link clarified. “I miss you.”

“I miss you,” Rhett answered him. Link heard the sincerity in Rhett’s voice and hoped his sincerity and raw honesty seeped through the phone, too.

* * *

 

Rhett had sent the text, insecure and worried. He had a particularly rough moment where he started to worry that it was all press and promo making Link say those things, that the real story was in the dropped shows and the way Link barely answered his texts. He was weak and he was worried, and he hated that he felt that way, but he had to hear Link’s voice, to know that it was okay.

Link sleeping soundly didn’t help matters. Maybe this didn’t hit him the way it had Rhett. Maybe Link didn’t have the concerns or the worries. Maybe, Rhett worried, that was because they were on different pages anyway.

But Link’s “I miss you,” and the way he said he hadn’t been sleeping, it made it painfully clear to Rhett. They were both aching. They were both struggling. They were both having issues with this.

“I miss you,” Rhett said back into the phone to him, wishing he could reach through the phone and pull Link closer.

“Wait a second,” Link said. Rhett heard a soft click. “Why are we talking? Why did I call you?”

Rhett’s heart sank for half a second.

“I could have facetimed you!” Rhett could hear the sound of Link’s palm hitting his face, the frustration dripping in his voice. “Hang up and facetime me. I’m a hot mess right now from sleep, but I want to see you.”

* * *

 

Link was desperate to see Rhett’s face. He needed to see him and, if he was being honest, he wanted to touch him, but that wasn’t an option. Seeing him was. If Link could see him, he could stave off the pain of not being able to pull Rhett close, to tell him that anything they were going through right now was worth it if it meant they could be together.

The phone vibrated in his hand and he tapped the screen. Within seconds, Rhett’s face filled it. “Better?”

“Better,” Link said, running his hands through his hair to try to make himself look a little more presentable.

“Gosh, you look good,” Rhett groaned a little bit. The way he said it had a direct impact on Link, a physical response to Rhett’s words. If Rhett kept talking like that, he was going to forget all the things he wanted to say to Rhett -- the important things -- because his other head would take over the conversation.

“You do, too.” Link tried to stay focused, to say what was on his mind at the moment. “Hey Rhett?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you see, uh… what interviews did you see?” Link rephrased. He knew Rhett had seen some of them. He’d texted after them. But Link needed to know which ones he’d seen. Link had his fingers crossed that Rhett hadn’t seen Ellen. The last thing he needed was for Rhett to feel weird or not okay with Link saying he was his soulmate. Link had said the words without hesitation, without a second thought. But he hadn’t considered the fact that suddenly, Rhett was being thrown into a situation where everyone in the world knew Link thought of him that way… except for him.

* * *

 

“I watched all of them,” Rhett said. “Is that okay?”

“You watched Ellen?”

“I watched Ellen.” Rhett worried. He worried Link might be wanting to take a step back, to retract his words, at the very least modify them. Link looked away for a second.

“You saw Ellen? The… the whole interview?” Link bit his lip.

Rhett’s heart was racing and his hands were sweating. He gripped the phone tighter, worried he’d drop it from how sweaty his palms were.

“Yeah, I watched the whole thing,” Rhett confessed. He had a lump in his throat.

“So you saw the part where I said, uh, where I told her that you were… you know…” Link stumbled over the words. He’d seemed to have no issue with saying it in the spotlight, but now saying it to Rhett’s face, he couldn’t, and that made it very clear to Rhett: he didn’t mean it.

“Listen, Link… I get that it was a press thing, don’t worry about it.” Rhett tried to be gracious, to let him off the hook, to not feel badly for having to take back what he was saying. He was angry with himself for not being more clear to Link: he loved Link regardless, but it hurt to know that public Link and private Link were saying different things. He didn’t like it. It hurt and--

“I should have told you first instead of saying it all over TV. It sucks that everyone in that audience heard me say it before you did. I’m sorry.”

“What?” Rhett’s brain froze in place. Link didn’t take it back. He didn’t say it wasn’t true.

“I said I’m sorry the audience heard me say it before you did. I should have told you in person, or called, or something. Her question threw me off-guard and I said it then, but I’d been meaning to tell you. It’s just--” Link felt overwhelmed with guilt. Rhett should have been the first to know. The last thing Link wanted was for Rhett to be upset he had been so public with his statement instead of talking it through. He worried it might make things worse with his family, with his job… it was good feelings, bad timing.

“So say it,” Rhett said. He looked at Link through the screen. “Let me hear it.”

* * *

 

“You’re my soulmate, Rhett. You’ve always been the one I was going to end up with, is that what you want to hear? That it was always you?” Link choked up saying the words, overcome with emotion and how strongly he felt for Rhett. “Because it’s true. I screwed it up when we were kids but it was always you and me. From day one.”

“Holy crap, Link,” Rhett said. He got quiet and for a second, Link wondered if he should take it back. “I’ve always known, too. I… I thought you were regretting saying it because maybe you didn’t mean it.”

“What do you mean you didn’t think I meant it? What about us being together didn’t tell you--”

“Link. Shut up for a second. I was being stupid, okay? I know. It always was us, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Link didn’t know what to say after that. It had always been them, and tour be damned, distance, all of it, it was always going to be them. He was going to make sure of it.

* * *

 

They were both quiet. Rhett didn’t really know what someone was supposed to say after both agreeing they were soulmates. He’d never made it that far with anybody. He’d never expected to make it this far with Link, not after everything that happened, the distance they’d had for so long.

“Hey Rhett?”

“Yeah?” Leave it to Link to be the one to break the silence. He was the talkative type most of the time, and silences weren’t his strong suit.

“You look really, really good right now.” Rhett blushed, and Link took a sharp inhale of breath. They’d been apart for over a week, nearly two. It was taking a toll on Rhett not just emotionally, but physically.

“You look really good, too,” Rhett answered him.

“Are you alone?”

* * *

 

Link had managed to talk to him before going straight to that question. He’d waited, talked through what he really wanted to say first, but now that he’d gotten it out of the way, the sight of Rhett was getting to him and he needed to say something about it. He was hoping Rhett was alone, was able to hear him out there.

“Yeah,” Rhett said, and it seemed like he knew what Link was getting at because his voice was husky and his eyes kept trailing down until the screen cut off, staring at what part of Link’s bare chest was exposed. He was still in bed, and he hadn’t bothered to grab a shirt before calling. Why would he have needed to?

“I miss you,” Link told him. He was going all-in on mushy, and he felt weird about that. He wasn’t the type of guy to tell anybody he missed them. Girls he met on the road, Amber, anyone. He never said that. But with Rhett, it was honest and raw, something that came out easily. He did truly miss him, more than he could explain.

“I miss you, too,” Rhett told him. It was a relief to hear it, and Link wasn’t sure why. He knew Rhett missed him, but there was something about him saying it that made Link happy.

“So, uh…” Link wasn’t sure how to make a move at this sort of distance. He was, but he wasn’t. In his past distance situations, which were never really as distant, but more “I’ll call you from a tour stop,” it was always Amber leading and Link feeling annoyed at her because at that point, they weren’t usually together. It was those off-again moments that would draw him back in. He didn’t know how to do this when he was actually with the person he wanted to be with, but not close enough to touch him.

“You look really, really hot right now,” Rhett said. His voice was still a little growly, a little low, a little sending-shockwaves-to-Link’s-dick, and Link couldn’t help but smile, feel the blush creep over his whole body.

* * *

 

Rhett knew Link wanted something, could tell there was something he wasn’t saying when he started his “So, uh…” and didn’t finish. His head seemed to be set on something that his mouth wasn’t spitting out, but the lust-drenched look on his face made it pretty obvious.

Doing this up close was still new and weird. Doing it at a distance was even stranger, like they were still figuring out what the other wanted, liked, enjoyed, but now they had to sort it out through a screen. Rhett was have tempted to finish Link’s sentence for him -- “So, uh, why don’t you come to LA for the weekend?” -- because after all, Link had been in town for press and hadn’t even had the chance to stop. It wasn’t entirely his fault. Rhett’s schedule wasn’t permitting it and Link was in town for one fully-booked day. He wasn’t even staying the night.

Instead, Rhett went with what he could. “You look really, really hot right now,” he said, and he felt like he could almost see Link blush through the phone.

“I want to see you,” Link said, and he came off as an over-excited puppy for a second. “Can I?”

Rhett panned the phone down a little bit. “Like this?” he asked.

* * *

 

Seeing Rhett like that made Link kick himself even more that he hadn’t had time to stop in LA, to spend one night there. He’d begged, tried, but his publicist was set on him shooting more New York shows the next morning starting in the early hours. It was the only way they could squeeze him into a press tour that quickly, to do damage control.

The pan down his body left Link craving, left him desperate to text his publicist and tell her he needed to go to LA for a family emergency. She’d see right through it, though, given all of the PR she’d done about Rhett, and how she knew exactly where he lived.

“That but more naked,” Link suggested, wondering how he’d gotten bold enough to say something so honest. He really did want to see Rhett that, but more naked. “You look really good in those clothes, but you’d look even better out of them.” He resisted the urge to physically facepalm after saying that. It was a terrible line, but Rhett didn’t seem to mind. As he pulled the camera back up to his face, Link could see him chuckling over it.

“More naked, huh?” he asked, and Link nodded.

“More naked.”

* * *

 

Rhett wasn’t the most graceful guy on the planet. There was no way he was going to be able to strip while holding the phone. “I’m going to have to put you down for a second if I’m taking these off,” Rhett told him.

“Mmm,” Link hummed a sigh for a second like he was thinking about something. “Can you put the phone where I can see you? Prop it up?” Link slid down in his bed a little bit, watching, and Rhett wondered if this was turning him on like it was intended to.

“Yeah, I can, uh… give me a second.” Rhett’s first two attempts failed, his efforts to prop it against his bedside lamp and then his wall only letting the phone slip down.

“Take your time,” Link said, and he sounded sincere, not snarky, but Rhett couldn’t really tell in his own frustration. He wanted to do this for Link, wanted to strip down for him, wanted him to see it because what else could they do this far apart but some sort of long-distance striptease? “I’m enjoying the view every time you’re on screen, baby.”

It was Rhett’s turn to blush this time. “Oh yeah?” He got the phone steady, holding it into place with the remote as he placed it against the wall on his bedside table, finally getting it to do what it should. He turned and wiggled his hips toward the phone, not fully coordinated. “You like this view, huh?”

* * *

 

The expectation was that Link would laugh at that, he was sure, but if he was being honest, yeah, he liked that view. If he was there, that was the kind of view he would have changed to his desires. He would have tugged Rhett’s shorts down, kissed his lower back, pulled Rhett into his lap, fucked him just like that… but he wasn’t there. He was in New York City in his apartment, and he was holding onto Rhett through the phone instead of by Rhett’s hips like he wanted. “I love that view,” Link said, not laughing, but serious. He wanted Rhett so desperately.

Link was palming at himself and he was pretty sure Rhett knew it. “You should take your clothes off since I can’t,” he pressed. Rhett reached over his head, tugged his shirt off with one hand.

“Yeah?” he asked, bare chested. Link was practically drooling, he thought, and it hit him how unjust it was that they’d only gotten a few days together before being yanked apart.

“Do the rest slow,” Link said, almost a command, but not quite. He bit his lip and shifted in place, guiding his boxer briefs down a little further. He got his hand on himself, stroking as Rhett took his time sliding the rest off, first his shorts, then his underwear. Link licked his lips. He wanted Rhett. Desperately, he wanted him.

* * *

 

“Do the rest slow,” Link said, and Rhett saw his phone move, saw it jerk to one side for a second, then back into place. Rhett was pretty certain he was touching himself. The thought of that, instead of feeling self-conscious like he’d initially been, left him turned on. As he slid his underwear off of himself, his erection sprang free, dipping and popping back up with obvious interest.

“That work for you?” Rhett asked him, and he picked up the phone again. Link’s screen went black for a second, then re-materialized, focused on his dick instead of his face.

“What do you think?” He was obviously hard, tip glistening with precome, and Rhett would have given anything to get him off personally, to get his lips around Link and take him deeply.

“I think maybe you liked it,” Rhett said, and he put the phone down on the bed, trying to find a position he could get in where he could see the phone but Link could see his cock and how much he wanted this, too.

“I really like it,” Link said. He flipped his phone again, back to his face, and Rhett couldn’t help but want both that view  _ and  _ the one of Link stroking his cock. He didn’t like the idea that right now, they had to choose. Rhett straddled his phone, balancing himself and keeping one hand on himself. It gave Link a perfect view of his cock, but also all the way up his body to his face. When Rhett looked down at him, he was hoping on Link’s end, it was a shot something like if Link was on his knees, but Rhett wasn’t sure if it was working or not. “How’s this?” he asked him.

* * *

 

At first all Link saw was lots of movement after Rhett’s strip tease. “I really like it,” he said, and he flipped his phone to his face view. He didn’t really want to leave it just on his cock if that was something Rhett wasn’t keen on seeing, so he decided his face was the safer option unless Rhett spoke up. But the phone kept moving, and Link wasn’t quite sure what Rhett was doing.

Then the phone was steady. It was in place between Rhett’s legs, focused on his dick but giving a nice view of his whole body. It was beautiful, like he was on his knees. “How’s this?” Rhett asked.

It took him a second to respond, overwhelmed by the view.

“Holy shit, Rhett.” At first, it was all he could manage to say. “You look amazing. I… Gosh, I wish I could be there. Just like this.” Link was trying to tell him that he wished he could be on his knees, or on his back with Rhett over him, whatever. It didn’t matter. He wanted to be there and he wanted his mouth on Rhett and he wanted more than anything to feel him and taste him and touch him.

“You, uh… do you want me to…?” Rhett tripped over his words and Link was worried they were going too far for his comfort, but Link wanted more, craved the thought of Rhett’s hand on himself so he could project his own hand there mentally.

“I want you to do that,” Link said, watching Rhett stroke himself slowly. “Go slow.”

Link tried to keep the same pace, watching as Rhett stroked, tilting his head back as his own hands explored his chest. It only got Link harder, hotter, more desperate. “Yeah, that’s good, Rhett, that’s real nice.” His drawl came out stronger when he was watching, no longer masked by time spent in the city, but in full force watching his best friend, his soulmate, getting off on-screen. “That’s so sexy.”

* * *

 

Every encouragement got Rhett working himself faster. He’d barely gotten to have Link in any sort of sexual way and when he did it was too short, but it had also been too long. Just the thought of them doing  _ this  _ made it hard for him to slow down. “That’s so sexy,” Link said, and he practically breathed the words. Rhett liked that his screen was still on his face because where the phone was, every time Rhett looked down it was like Link was looking up at him.

He couldn’t slow down like Link had wanted. He tried and couldn’t, working faster, harder. “I’m close,” Rhett said. The jerk of Link’s phone screen and the way it couldn’t hold steady made it clear he was matching pace and moving just as fast toward the edge.

“You should come,” Link groaned, “Oh, fuck.” Link turned the camera just as his come spilled over his hands, just as it dripped down his fingers, and that did it for Rhett. He grunted, falling forward and putting his hand on the bed to steady himself as he came. Hard. After a few deep breaths, he picked up his phone, wiping come off of the screen with his fingers and smearing it onto his comforter. He’d do laundry after the call, whatever. It didn’t matter. Right now what mattered was the breathy pant Link had after watching him get off. It was overwhelming.

* * *

 

“That was so good,” Link said. “So hot.” He still wasn’t breathing normally, overcome by not just the way Rhett looked but by the whole situation, the whole scene, the whole everything. Facetime Sex wasn’t quite the real thing, but if it could hold them off until they got closer physically, he’d take it. He’d take whatever he could get.

But as he came down, it hit him how tired he was. He yawned.

“Oh gosh,” Rhett said. “Don’t you have a thing this morning?” Link had completely forgotten about it after texting Rhett earlier in the evening, telling him that he had to do a few more interviews. The tour was just around the corner now, and in about a week he’d be flying out for the first stop of it.

“Shit, yeah. I have to get to bed. I’m so sorry,” he said. The last thing he wanted to do was get this intimate with Rhett, then end the call immediately after.

“It’s okay. It’s later there, remember? I forgot. Good luck tomorrow,” Rhett said. They were both still naked, both sweat-slicked and drained.

“Thanks,” Link said. “You have practice tomorrow?”

“Nah, I have that first campaign photoshoot. I’m still not really sure if I’m going back to pre-season practices at the moment. I haven’t talked to coach since everything went down.”

“I’m sorry,” Link said. He genuinely was. “You, um… you want to call me tomorrow and let me know how it went?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Night, Rhett.” Link hated saying goodbye. He cursed the fact that they weren’t falling asleep in one place, ached over the fact that they were apart for even longer. He wondered how hard it would be to relocate, change lives, then he wondered how wise that would be going into a tour. If he headed out to LA, and then the tour broke them, that wouldn’t help anyone. But if he didn’t go to LA, it meant even when he wasn’t gone, it was more of this, more late nights and phone calls and everything else.

“Night, Link,” Rhett answered, and then the screen went black. Link cried, and he didn’t stop until he fell asleep.


	10. Progress?

Rhett slept hard for the first time since he’d gotten home. Every other night had been filled with fitful, restless sleep. Thoughts about Link, about being this far apart, thoughts about his parents, how upset they’d been and how his mother didn’t answer his call two days before, thoughts about the team and the ridiculous homophobia the coach seemed to be allowing to happen… it was all overwhelming and overpowering, almost too much to bear. But after seeing Link’s face, talking to him, hell, getting off with him, it all made him feel a little better.

He knew they could get through this. It may take effort, but he knew it was possible now. Link was in this, and he was in this, so there wasn’t anything stopping them from here on out, he was sure of it. Eyes closed, he could still feel the heat of Link’s breath on his skin if he thought hard enough. Maybe he was imagining it and he couldn’t really have spent enough time with Link to know, but it did the trick for him. As soon as he woke, he found himself stroking his cock, replaying their FaceTime from the night before in his head. It had been so hot to see Link’s reaction, to hear him over the phone. Once he finished, he snapped a picture, come running down the side of his cock, and texted it to Link.

 

**_I know you’re busy, but thought this could be good inspiration for when you get some downtime. We should do that again sometime ;)_ **

* * *

Link’s sleep was fitful and restless. Crying himself to sleep hadn’t exactly led to the most restful night on the planet. He saw 5am, 6am, 7am tick by on the clock, dozing for a few minutes, then waking up with a start only to feel sad and doze off again, clinging to his pillow and wishing it were Rhett instead.

But a restless night didn’t make for a good morning. It made for a shitty morning, one where Link slept through his alarms -- all four of them -- and a few phone calls from his publicist asking where he was. When he did wake up, it was 10am, well past the time he was supposed to be anywhere at all. “Shit!” he exclaimed to himself, tapping out a quick text to his publicist.

****

**_I’ll be there in 30 minutes. I’m so sorry._ **

****

He kicked himself. These weren’t live interviews, thank goodness, but missing them wasn’t helpful -- live or not, this was other people’s time, time he was wasting by not showing up. His phone vibrated, and she wasn’t happy, saying one had cancelled, one had rescheduled for another day, and the last was waiting less-than-patiently at a coffee shop nearby. Just as he headed downstairs to meet his Uber, his phone buzzed with a text from Rhett.

****

**I know you’re busy, but thought this could be good inspiration for when you get some downtime. We should do that again sometime ;)**

**_Holy crap, babe. That’s… really hot._ **

****

On the way to the interview, Link was thankful he’d opted not to take his car. If he’d driven, he wouldn’t have twelve and a half minutes to text Rhett.

****

**I was thinking of you**

**_What were you thinking about?_ **

**Last night. Our facetime. That time by the river in the car. How good you’d look in my bed. I have a really, really good mattress.**

**_I can’t wait to feel it sometime soon._ **

**When’s your LA show?**

****

Link had completely forgotten when it was, so he quickly googled it. “Link Neal, Los Angeles upcoming concert.” No sense in searching down the list of tour dates in his phone right then.

****

**_A month and a half from now. :( September 6th. I heard a dirty rumor that if you sleep with me, you can get a backstage pass ;)_ **

****

It was Link’s turn to be flirty, to send a seductive message. He couldn’t whip his dick out in an Uber, but he could definitely tell Rhett he wanted him.

* * *

 

The text from Link came on a little strong in all the right ways -- sleeping with him for a backstage pass? It was a taboo kind of sexy roleplay, the idea he could sleep with the band, or rather, one particular rapper, to get VIP access to him… it was the kind of thing he’d like to lean into more, to play up and enjoy. He clicked open his calendar before responding, then felt sick to his stomach.

**_Does the universe hate us?_ **

**Why?**

**_I won’t be in town then. Preseason game._ **

Rhett wanted to scream. Somehow they’d lost not one, but two chances to see each other in one single sweep of a schedule. So much for sleeping with Link to get backstage. So much for seeing him at all.

**Where? Anywhere close that I can slip up to between shows?**

**_You’re never going to believe it. We play the Knicks that weekend. In New York._ **

**You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.**

Rhett wished he were kidding. Instead, he sent a screenshot of the schedule. The same weekend Link would be in Los Angeles, Rhett would be in New York.

**Shit, I’m at my interview. I’ll text you when I’m done. Miss you so much.**

**_Miss you, too._ **

Rhett was pissed. All of the waiting, all of the time apart, and the one weekend they could be together, they couldn’t. They were in opposite places at all the wrong times, on opposite ends of the country, in different time zones and spaces and it hurt. It didn’t help matters that for all he knew, Troy wasn’t the only homophobic one on the team. If his coach was allowing it to happen, it wasn’t exactly where he wanted to be. Not that another team would be any better, but if he somehow got on another team, maybe he’d be closer to Link. He didn’t know.

**_Text me your tour dates and I’ll cross-check it with my schedule. Surely we’re in the same city at some point, right? Good luck._ **

Rhett didn’t want to interrupt the interview, but he had to let Link know what he was going to find a way to see him, one way or another.

* * *

As Link sat down at the table with a mug of whatever coffee drink was on special that day, he apologized profusely to the reporter in front of him. “I’m so sorry. I had a late night working on some new tracks and I completely lost track of time. Overslept. Forgive me?” Link had a winning smile and it was easy to get people on his side that way. When he used it, it helped, but he typically reserved it for emergencies -- last-second seat upgrades on a plane, getting him out of deep shit with his manager anytime he’d be late. Before Rhett, he wasn’t one to smile much, not unless he had to, and after being apart from him, he found it hard to muster one easily. The reporter just nodded, like he barely recognized Link’s effort to apologize. Perhaps Link hadn’t done enough to make it right, to make up for it, but he didn’t have time for the man in front of him asking him the same questions he’d been asked again and again.

**Text me your tour dates and I’ll--**

The text preview flashed on his screen just before he could silence his phone and tuck it away. “Excuse me, I just need to reply to this really quickly.” Samantha gave him a sharp kick to the ankle, and he jerked his leg out of her range.

**_okay. I’ll do it after the interview. I love you._ **

He silenced his phone. “Okay. I’m ready.” He could already read the beginning of the article, the reporter putting his own spin on Link showing up late, scattered and unprepared, and blowing off the first few minutes of introductions to text instead.

“Can we take the fact that you’re working on some new tracks as a sign that a new studio album is coming soon?”

He and Samantha had discussed it, and he had plans to record some things right away, but they weren’t set to make a formal announcement anytime soon. Using it as an excuse wasn’t helpful -- he was letting something slip that was supposed to stay quiet until the tour was over. Tour one album, write the next one. That was the way it was set to go, and he hadn’t exactly done well at keeping it under wraps. Nevermind that he hadn’t been writing a new song at all. He’d been getting off with Rhett.

“I have some things in the works, but we’ll have to wait and see what will come of it. At this point, I don’t have anything set in stone. But I’m a songwriter, right? Have to get it on paper when inspiration strikes.” It was the most noncommittal answer he could give, and it seemed to appease the reporter in front of him. He’d somehow missed the publication they were from, or even who he was speaking to. Rude on his part, obviously, but he couldn’t be bothered to find out right now.

“That’s fair. Though, I’m sure you know that as much as we’re all anxiously anticipating your next big hit, most fans really want to know about the details of your sex life now. You’re seeing a man after dating supermodels… what’s the deal there?”

“There’s no deal there. I was very happy to have some amazing relationships with some women who were beautiful inside and out. And now I’m happy to have a relationship with a man with a stunning mind, an incredibly handsome face… don’t even get me started on the rest of his body, and a whole hell of a lot of skill on a basketball court,” Link answered him. “My relationship with Rhett doesn’t negate the relationships I had with women in the past. And my relationships with women don’t lessen the love I can have for a man, either.”

“That’s really sweet, actually. So in your songs, when you sing about relationships you’ve been in… who are those about?” It was the exact same question on all of his videos online… “how do you know what being with a woman is like if you’re with a man?” Blah, blah, blah.

“It’s the same as any musician. You know, Halsey had her era where she did Him and I with G-Easy. Then they split and she did Without Me. Taylor Swift has written songs about… how many guys now? My songs about women are about women I’ve dated. You can usually line up a song with a general era and the time frame and figure out who it’s about. There’s some overlap -- if I write a song about a girl when I’m with her, and then we break up, I don’t throw the song out just because we aren’t together. I’d imagine some of my songs moving forward will be about men, will use a ‘he’ pronoun in there. That’s when you’ll know it’s about Rhett.”

“About Rhett specifically?” The reporter, asked, squinting his eyes slightly at what Link had said. “You mentioned that your songs about women could be about any number of women, but songs about men would be about Rhett specifically. With you labeling yourself publicly as bisexual, are you certain you aren’t just… how would I word that… Rhett-sexual?” It was a ridiculous question and Link knew it: if Rhett was the only guy he had been with, wanted to be with, how could he be sure that he was truly bisexual and not just interested in one man. And even if he  _ were  _ just interested in one man, by that standard, he wasn’t “bisexual enough” for anyone’s definitions, even though that was all he had to be: interested in a man, interested in a woman at some point or another. Interested in both.

“You saying Rhettsexual makes it sound like I’ve never been interested in other guys before. And it sort of wipes away those solid relationships with women before. Just because I exclusively see myself with Rhett -- now and in the future -- doesn’t mean I haven’t had attractions to more than one gender before him, nor does it mean I’d ever not have attraction to others in the future. But he’s my soulmate, so it’s easy for me to believe that all songs I write in the future -- regardless of pronoun -- will be about him. Does that make sense to you?”

The reporter looked away and jotted a note down, despite the tape recorder right in front of him. “Got it. So… about your upcoming tour--”

Link looked at his phone. He wondered how much longer this would take.

* * *

The phone ringing started Rhett so much he nearly dropped it into the soapy water in front of him. “Shit, shit, okay, shit.” Most of the guys on his team had hired some sort of house cleaner, maid, whoever, and everyone had installed a dishwasher, except for Rhett. He didn’t mind doing it the old-fashioned way, didn’t mind hand-washing dishes to give himself a little time to think.

He dried his hands on the tea towel nearby, picking up the phone. “Hello?”

“McLaughlin, glad I caught you. Listen, about the locker room the other day…” He couldn’t believe his coach had waited this long to call, days after everything happened. “I noticed you haven’t been at practice.”

“With all do respect, sir, I felt like we all needed a cooling off period, and with the upcoming locker room campaign, I felt it was best for me to focus on that, as I said in my email.” Rhett explained it to him and tried to bite his tongue from saying more. He didn’t need a cooling off time, but clearly his teammates did. It was a little alarming how only two of them had texted to check in with him since it had happened.

“Well, that’s what I’m calling about. The thing is, I’m wondering if maybe you wouldn’t be a little more comfortable with a place to change separate from the others, to prevent an incident like that happening again. I think it might be beneficial for you to have that protection.”

“You keep saying things here like it’s more comfortable for me, protection for me, but what I’m hearing from you is that it’s something you think would make the others more comfortable or feel more safe, is that right?” Rhett could sense his tone wasn’t entirely kind nor forgiving, and it was pretty obvious what he was getting after. None of it was about Rhett’s best interests in the slightest.

“Well, perhaps it’s for everyone’s comfort and safety, including yours,” the coach rephrased. That only served to confirm what Rhett was thinking: that his team wanted him out of the locker room, and that his coach was allowing it to happen.

“Sir, I’ve been on this team for quite a while now, haven’t I?”

“Yes.”

“And we’ve had no incidents up to this point, correct? I’ve never made a pass at a player, never been inappropriate in any way, never done anything that made the others feel uncomfortable before the most recent practice, correct?” Rhett demanded.

“I’m not aware of any specific complaints against you, no,” Coach responded.

“I was just as gay last season, the season before that, as I am this one. The difference is, nobody knew about it. Nothing has changed. Nothing will change. I’m not a threat to them. I’ve never been a threat to anybody. The fact that it’s 2019 and you even remotely think I’d make a pass at one of your players, the fact that any of them think that comes with the territory of having a gay teammate, that goes to show progress isn’t really something that’s happened,” Rhett said. “I’m not sure if y’all go around and make passes at every woman you see on the street -- you’re interested in women, right? -- because if you do, that’s downright disgusting. And if you don’t, then it’s probably the same way as I don’t go around hitting on every single man in my line of sight. Now, I’ll return to practice, but I will get ready with the team the same way I always have. And nobody -- not you, not any of my teammates -- is going to say shit about it, does that make sense to you, Coach?” Rhett could feel his jaw tense and could feel that he was gripping the phone hard, and he did what he could to calm himself, taking a sharp inhale as an attempt at deep breaths.

“I don’t appreciate your tone, Rhett.” He never called Rhett that, but the way he said it was reminiscent of Rhett’s dad, and Rhett didn’t care for that much.

“I apologize for my tone, Coach, but I also don’t appreciate being treated like a predator when I’m not one. I need this issue to be fixed, or I’m going to start being incredibly open about the rampant homophobia that takes part on this team.”

“I don’t appreciate blackmail, either, Mr. McLaughlin. That’s not how this team works,” his coach reminded him.

“If me saying that I’ll expose any existing homophobia is blackmail, then perhaps you need to reconsider your team’s approach to homophobia. Oh, and coach? I know this effectively kills my shot at seeing a second of playing time this year, but the moment you get a chance, I’d like you to consider trading me.”

“You’re right, McLaughlin. That really didn’t help you. See you Monday.” He hung up the phone before Rhett could say anything else, before he could ask any questions.

* * *

Every last second of the interview was damn near infuriating. Link didn’t like playing nice with someone who wanted to exclusively talk about his sexuality. Even questions about the tour were about how he’d work it around Rhett, if Rhett would be jealous, whatever else.

“Well, I did get some bad news this morning,” Link said flatly. “Looks like my LA tour date lands when my boyfriend is in, of all places, New York. For a lot of the tour we’ll be crossing paths, but we have ways of making it work. He’s really supportive of my tour and my music, and I’m very supportive of his basketball career. That isn’t changing anytime soon.”

It was the first time he’d ever publicly referred to Rhett as his boyfriend. Sure, on Ellen he’d gone as far as calling Rhett his soulmate, which seemed miles past saying he was his boyfriend, but the reality was, there was something intimate in referring to Rhett as his boyfriend, something that stated things very clearly:  _ he’s mine, and any jealousy isn’t relevant because we’re okay. _ The last thing he needed was some sort of bizarre speculation that they were having issues on the road.

But all the interview did was make him miss Rhett more. His heart and soul ached to be with him, to see him, to do anything, as long as he did it with Rhett The second the reporter  walked out of the cafe, Link turned toward Samantha.

“You need to play nicer with reporters,” she said. “Especially after he changed his schedule for you, you really need to chill.”

“What about that wasn’t nice?”

“You messed with your phone half the time, you got coffee and didn’t offer anyone else any--”

“--that’s part of the territory, Sam. If he wanted coffee, he was here with plenty of time to get some. And you know that. You’re acting like I did all this shit wrong and you’re just pissed I was late. I’m sorry, jeez. Can you chill?” His tone was sharp and biting and the wounded look on her face was apparent. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night,” he explained. He didn’t want to hurt Samantha. She’d been there for him non-stop. Publicist wasn’t exactly the right word for everything Samantha did. It was how she started her job working with Link, but now she was so much more… his confidant, his friend, the person who cleaned up his messes, the person who took the heat for him. Most of the time, she did more for him than his manager did, honestly, and if he could fire him, replace him with Sam, he would in a second.

“It’s fine,” she waved him off. “Everybody else cancelled today, so go home and get some sleep. I’ll see you bright and early at the studio tomorrow,” she told him.

“That’s not going to work for me.”

“Why the hell will it not work for you? We booked the space. You’re supposed to lay down at least one of your new singles tomorrow or we’re going to be really behind before this tour starts. You really want to stop at some shit studio on the road to lay down a few tracks between shows, when your voice is going to be completely shot? No. You’re recording tomorrow. It’s going to cost everyone a fuckton of money to reschedule that.”

“Sam, I can’t do it. I cannot sit there any record this shit right now. Tell them I had a family emergency and I had to cancel, that I’ll be back in a few days. We weren’t even supposed to be back by now anyway,” he reminded her. They weren’t. He was supposed to still be coming back from being home, supposed to get back in the swing of things,  _ then  _ record a couple of songs. He was supposed to be ready to record next week at the earliest.

“If your family emergency means a trip to LA, don’t even think about it. Not if we cancel these shows. It takes one sight of you on a plane, one shot of you two getting pho in LA, and everyone knows where your head is at. You have work to do,” she told him. She wasn’t letting up, either.

“I’m not doing this unless I get to see him.” He was dead-set on that. Missing Rhett hurt too much. Being away from him hurt too much. The only way he’d get any sleep at all was to see Rhett, to make sure they had a better goodbye than what they’d had. If they were going to be apart for months now, without being able to be in the same city at all, Link had to see him at least once before the tour.

“You’d throw it all away for him?” She asked. “What the fuck am I even asking that for? Of course you would.” She snapped, but then her face grew softer, like she realized the pain Link was in. There was something different about the way Link demanded to see Rhett, something that wasn’t like anyone else he’d been with. Even if he loved them, he didn’t love anyone the way he loved Rhett, and it seemed to show in the way she mulled over the options. She opened her phone, tapping out a text, then looked at Link. “24 hours, private jet, don’t you dare think about going anywhere outside of his apartment. I told them you have a cold and you’re sick in bed. I’m not kidding, Link. 24 hours from the time you land or we’re all fucked. I moved the studio time to 42 hours from now, bright and early 9am. You literally have time to go home, pack, fly, get your hugs or cuddles or whatever the hell else you’re doing, fly back, and get your ass in the booth, okay?”

He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tightly. “Thank you so much, Sam. Seriously. I love you.”

“Don’t forget you’re sick.”


	11. 24 Hours

Link tapped his foot nervously. He didn’t usually take private planes. It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford to -- he could. It was more that while touring, he was on a bus, and between, he was okay with commercial flights still. Plus, private planes were small and expensive. It was cheaper to fly commercially and not have to worry about the added cost. Private was fine if he was flying with people, but this time he was alone. One person on a private jet? He felt weird.

Rhett had no idea he was coming. Part of him wanted to reach out, see if there was a conflict, make sure Rhett didn’t have practice or whatever else during the time he’d be there. The other part of him realized there was no time to double-check that he wasn’t otherwise occupied. Sam had already cancelled studio time, and she’d gotten the flight, too, being the saint she was. He knew it came less from kindness and more from her wanting to be 100% sure he was keeping it quiet. It was partly love for him and partly knowing he was so in love, but it was mostly that control freak nature of hers that kept Link in line. In a good way, Link was sure. In the meantime, he’d thrown a change of clothes into a bag, then gone back into his drawer for lube. It had been a while and he didn’t have any suitable condoms, but he figured they could postmates them if they got that far. Given their facetimes lately, he had a feeling that would happen, but with such a short time, who knew? The idea that he only had 24 hours limited his need for much packing at all, but he grabbed essentials.

Calling Rhett before made no sense. Conflict of availability or not, Link was sure they’d at least manage a few hours together, even if Rhett was busy, and a few hours was enough for Link, a few hours allowing them to kiss, to cuddle, to have that moment. But in the meantime, he had nothing to do but sit on the plane. Writing helped. He scribbled a few lines, then a few more, triplets turning into a verse, then adding a chorus. Most of the way through the song, he started to drift, and after penning the last words of the song, something all about missing the one you love, he fell asleep, not waking until landing.

* * *

Rhett leaned back in his chair a little bit, sipping whatever was in the nasty green wheatgrass concoction he hadn’t ordered. It wasn’t really his choice. It was what it was and he was drinking it. It was more Carl’s drink of choice, and he was just along for the ride. “I don’t know what to do,” he said.

“Well, the way I see it, there aren’t a lot of options, not when you’re contractually here, you know?” Carl answered him. He leaned into Rhett, trying to catch his eyes. “What’s this really about, man? Is it about you missing Link? Because honestly, man, go to him. Hop a flight in the morning, come back in a few days when the real training starts. Go get your man, man.”

Rhett shook his head. “It’s not about that. I mean, it’s about that, sure. I miss him so much I can hardly stand it. That’s so fucking sappy, but it’s true. I miss him a lot. We didn’t really get a goodbye, you know? I really fucked up there, taking off without telling him.”

“You did what you had to do,” Carl reassured him. Rhett was thankful for his friendship and guidance. He knew he could trust him, in spite of everything that happened.

“It’s about other stuff, too, though,” Rhett acknowledged. “Coach’s response was such bullshit, you know? Having me go to a different locker room for ‘my comfort.’ My comfort, my ass. I was gay when I got signed to the team. It’s just nobody knew. Have you ever seen me do anything appropriate? If you have, tell me, man. Don’t just let me slide. Be real with me on this.”

“Rhett, come on. You know it’s just their own bullshit showing through. You’ve never done anything wrong in that regard and you and I both know that.” He drank more of his own smoothie. “Listen, I don’t even think you were in the wrong with the whole Troy thing, though. If it were me in your shoes, I would have beat the shit out of him and probably gotten kicked from the team.”

“Yeah, but now coach is pissed and I’m probably going to ride the bench all season. I told him I want to be traded if he gets the chance.”

“Damn, you really went for it, didn’t you?” he asked. Rhett nodded.

“I can’t stay here if this team’s like this, man. I just can’t.” He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t be that far away from Link and listen to the constant nonsense his team was spouting, that his coach was spouting. For his coach to call him, it had to be more than Troy who hated him being openly gay. It was all over ESPN, too, about the locker room fight. Rhett didn’t know who filmed it, but someone had leaked it and he couldn’t manage to recall who had been sitting at the right angle to catch it on camera. Naturally, they’d only caught Rhett’s rage and not the slurs that came before it.

“Clear your head, man. Go spend some time with Link before the season starts. That shoot you’ve got can be scheduled when for you get back, but you’ve got to get laid or something. Get out of that head of yours for a little bit,” Carl suggested.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll see if I can find a flight and get out to see him before his tour starts. Thanks, man.” Rhett started to stand up, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “You’re the only good one on this team, I swear.”

“More of us have your back than you realize,” Carl said, standing and grasping Rhett’s hand, pulling him into a half-hug.

“Careful, bro. People might think you’re my new boyfriend,” Rhett said. He meant it as a joke, but there was a tone of actual caution behind the words. He didn’t want to get Carl into any of the bullshit he was in.

“You? Psht, everyone knows I’d never date a guy with a beard like that. Nasty, Rhett. Gotta get that shaved, man, then I’ll be worried people might talk.” He smirked and brushed it off and Rhett instantly felt better. “I’ll see you at practice, okay? Oh, and who knows? Maybe he’ll trade you to the Knicks. Get you in the same city as that ass you’re tapping.”

“Shut up, man,” Rhett said. He knew Carl meant it in jest and not to be demeaning, but he still blushed furiously thinking about it, the fact that everyone knew he and Link were together on that level, too. The Knicks would be perfect. Then, he’d be in the same city as Link for the long haul. Nothing sounded better.

* * *

Link couldn’t exactly take an Uber or a cab without being easily noticed. If he rented a car, he’d be noticed, too. Sam hadn’t exactly given him a good plan for what to do once he landed in terms of getting from the airport he landed at to Rhett, not really. He texted her, waiting to hear back and sitting down on the edge of his hard-shelled bag.

**_I’d suggest you tip well and cover your face as best you can without looking suspicious._ **

**Gee, Sam. thanks. I’m sure wearing a full scarf won’t look weird in LA at all. Super helpful.**

Link sent a winking emoji to cover up the fact that her advice wasn’t helpful in the slightest, then called an Uber. He was nervous. What if Rhett wasn’t home? He hadn’t bothered to check. There was a very real chance he’d take an Uber over, get to Rhett’s apartment, and have to sit outside of the door until Rhett came back. For the first time, Link started to second-guess the plan and wondered if he wouldn’t have been better off staying in New York and recording as planned.

**Hey, babe. What are you up to?**

Link figured a quick text to Rhett could help. Maybe he’d tell Link exactly where he was and Link would know what to do next. Then he realized it wouldn’t be too hard to spoil the plan if Rhett was out somewhere, to ruin the surprise and ask him for a ride. That should have been the easier solution. If Rhett was home, though, he lived across town. It wouldn’t work.

**_Just got home from the gym with Carl. Miss you._ **

A sweaty selfie popped up on Link’s phone, and Rhett looked incredible.

**Miss you, too. Looks like you had a good workout. Too bad I wasn’t there to give you a better one ;) ;)**

Rhett was home, so a ride from him wouldn’t work, but Link could tease until he got there, could make it obvious how much he missed Rhett and throw him off the scent, get him worked up, and then surprise him, take care of that need he’d stirred. At least, that was his hope. He pulled up Uber, then put his sunglasses on. Now all he had to do was stay totally unnoticed.

* * *

**Just got home from the gym with Carl. Miss you.**

Rhett sent the text in hopes Link would say something about wanting to see him. He needed a sign, needed some sort of answer that maybe he should do what Carl had suggested, book a quick flight. He only had a day or two before he’d really need to be back, but a day or two could give them a lot of time together if they used it wisely, provided Link wasn’t too busy. Even if he was, a few hours together was something better than nothing.

**_Miss you, too. Looks like you had a good workout. Too bad I wasn’t there to give you a better one ;) ;)_ **

That was enough to convince Rhett.

**Mmm, what sort of workout did you have in mind for me?**

 

Rhett teased him back, hoping for more. He may have been certain he’d be booking a flight to Link for the next day, but in the meantime, Link could help him take care of what he was starting with words like “too bad I wasn’t there” and the implication of what they’d do after. Rhett couldn’t wait until the next day wanting Link so badly.

Link didn’t reply right away, though, leaving him to get into planning mode instead. He needed a shower, but that could wait. First, he needed to find a way to get to Link, and that involved a phone call to get his photoshoot moved back. He’d deal with team stuff later. He’d deal with anything later. He needed to see Link and he needed to see him as soon as possible. The second he had things sorted, he was booking a flight. It could be a fun surprise for Link, he figured. They’d make it work.

**_Let’s just say you’ll need a shower after the workout. And by a shower I mean one big enough for the both of us._ **

**Mmm, can’t wait. I wish you were here to show me what you meant.**

* * *

There was something a little funny about Rhett wishing he could be there when he was honestly minutes away. He’d be there any time now, outside of Rhett’s door, and he was going to make good on the things he was texting, the filthy exchange they were having as Link sat in the back of an Uber. He’d naturally given the driver an address a block away from Rhett’s house, just to be on the safe side.

“You look a lot like, uh, oh, who’s that one rapper? I can’t remember his name. Been in the news a lot lately.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Link’s sunglasses weren’t doing a whole lot to help him.

“Rapper?” Link tried to play dumb, and he’d overshot… he’d have been better off naming people who weren’t him instead of trying to pretend he didn’t even know what rap was.

“Uh. Link Neal? Right? Dude picked a weird-ass stage name. Link.”

“Yeah, what is he, some sort of chain or something?” Link asked. He shook his head and tried to play like he had no idea what he was doing.

“Suitcase there. You here visiting someone?”

“Just scoping out the place,” Link said. “Never know, might feel the urge to relocate, take a shot at stardom or something.”

“A lot of people try. Lot of people fail. You know how it is here. You could end up being a star or you could end up washing dishes. I’m driving cars between auditions as it is,” the driver said. He pulled up to Rhett’s house. “Man, nice neighborhood. You a Lakers fan?”

“I don’t watch football,” Link said.

The man in the front of the car snorted. “Guess you’re not keen on basketball, either?” he asked Link. “Guy on the team lives around here. McLaughlin?”

Link gave a noncommittal shrug. “Probably wouldn’t know him if I saw him,” he said. “You said basketball? I guess I’ll just keep my eyes out for anyone unusually tall. Thanks for the ride.” Link tipped well and got out of the car, praying the driver didn’t put two and two together, recall the fact that Link was dating Rhett, figure out that someone looking like Link showing up to Rhett’s neighborhood was suspicious as hell. But Link didn’t have time to think about it. Rhett was a very short walk away and nothing mattered at all when that was the reality he was facing. One night with the love of his life, one night to give themselves a proper start to their time apart. That was all that mattered.

* * *

Rhett pulled out his credit card, tapping in the number and pressing “order” on the tickets. He turned on the shower, letting the bathroom steam up as he wandered around, waiting as the tickets processed, then double-checking the email with his confirmation showed up. His heart was racing. In less than twenty four hours, he’d be showing up outside of Link’s place, praying Link had time to see him.

He snapped one more quick selfie of himself, naked right outside of the shower, towel covering his cock, and pressed send. Link would get the message, would understand why he was taking a little longer to respond than normal.

**Wish you could join me.**

 

**_Damn. You’re so sexy. I wish I could, too._ **

When he stepped in the shower, that’s where his mind was, on Link in there with him, running his hands down his body. Rhett could almost imagine it, closing his eyes and letting his own hands tease at his nipples and work their way down. He was getting hard just considering it.

Before he could do anything about it, though, his doorbell buzzed. Part of him felt like ignoring it, figuring it was a package he could get in a few minutes or something. But then it buzzed again, and it seemed like it could be urgent. Rhett sighed, turning off the water and grabbing his towel, wrapping it around himself and drying off as the bell buzzed one more time. “I’m coming!” he hollered out, hoping he could be heard from the bathroom as he tossed the towel on the floor, tugging on a clean-ish pair of sweatpants from the floor and praying his hard-on wasn’t too obvious. “I’m coming!” he hollered again.

He wasn’t expecting anyone to be there. Whoever it was had interrupted his fantasy, and if he didn’t get off soon, he thought there might be hell to pay. He tried to stifle that, though, to not consider how frustrated he felt over the interruption.

“Link!”


	12. Surprise

“What are you doing here?” Rhett asked. Link could hear the surprise in his voice as he yanked him inside of the house and pushed him against the closed front door, kissing him before he could answer. Link had a million things to say but it didn’t matter -- right now he wanted to kiss back.

“I only have 24 hours,” Link explained, the first second he had a chance to breathe. He hadn’t answered what Rhett asked, but then again, Rhett hadn’t exactly let him. “I’m so sorry. My plane leaves in literally exactly 24 hours, I think.”

“I don’t care,” Rhett said. “Anything is enough. What are you doing here?” Rhett asked him again.

Link couldn’t fully put it into words, couldn’t explain everything the way he wanted to. Instead, he choked out peppered responses between kisses as Rhett got his mouth on Link’s neck, wrung his hands up in Link’s shirt. “I couldn’t leave us where we left us,” Link told him, pulling him closer, hands on Rhett’s bare skin. “We didn’t get a goodbye, not a real one. We didn’t get the time we deserved to have.”

* * *

 

Rhett felt intense guilt for it, the fact they hadn’t gotten a goodbye. That was his fault, his knee-jerk reaction to everything that was happening and to the way Link’s mom shut him out, too. “I’m so sorry,” Rhett told him. “I’m sorry.”

“Shhh,” Link said. “I can’t leave your house, by the way. I cancelled studio time by saying I was sick.”

Rhett shook his head. “Seriously?” He felt a little guilty that Link was giving up time for work to spend it with him.

“I couldn’t wait to see you any longer,” Link explained. Then Rhett remembered how strongly in the same boat he was, so strong that he was booking plane tickets moments before Link got there.

“Thank God,” Rhett said. He couldn’t wait, either. “I missed you,” Rhett said. He felt like he’d been saying it a million times, but he hadn’t said it at all. It was the reverberating beat in his mind and his heart.  _ I missed you I missed you I missed you I missed you.  _

The way Link hooked his fingers into Rhett’s waistband to tug him closer, the way Link’s lips found their way to Rhett’s collarbones and down to his nipples, said that he was on the same page. They’d been ripped apart before they could go all the way together, and Rhett became acutely aware of it in that moment. He’d known that they hadn’t, obviously, but now that Link was there and he was live and in person and they were doing  _ this,  _ it was impossible not to think about it, to have it weighing on his brain and humming in his head. He needed Link. And he hoped like hell Link needed him, too.

“Fuck me,” Link pleaded softly, his forehead against Rhett’s now as he looked in his eyes. “Or whatever, anything you want, but…” Link trailed off, like he knew what he wanted but was worried he’d gone too far. He hadn’t, though. It was exactly what Rhett wanted, the things they couldn’t do on Facetime, the things they couldn’t do so far apart.

“Okay,” Rhett said, picking Link up and carrying him toward the bedroom. His king-sized bed had held only him for too long, and right now he needed Link in it. His back twinged with a little bit of pain from lifting Link, but he didn’t care. He needed Link, needed to feel him and to keep him close. They were prisoners to the worlds they lived in, the worlds apart and the press and the fans and the public. Each kiss they shared here, in the sanctity of Rhett’s bedroom, was breaking their chains link by link and Rhett couldn’t get enough. He dropped Link unceremoniously onto the bed as his back protested stronger, and then he was on him, kissing him as his hands worked Link’s shirt off of him, over his head and onto the ground.

* * *

 

“You want this?” Rhett asked him, then he kissed his neck.

“Yeah,” Link groaned. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than for Rhett to fuck him, for them to finally do that after time apart and missed chances and all of the things in their lives that made this seem so impossible. “I want this.”

“You don’t want to talk first?” Rhett pressed.

Without thinking about what Rhett was saying, Link rolled his head back, feeling Rhett’s tongue on his neck as he held the back of his head to keep him close. “We can talk on the phone, we can facetime, but you can’t fuck me when we’re that far apart.” But then it hit him what Rhett might actually be saying, the idea that Rhett might not actually want to do this right here, right now, just like this. “If you want to talk, though,” Link froze a little, “I don’t mind. We can stop. We can talk.”

“No!” Rhett yelped, his thigh rubbing against Link through his jeans. “I want this. I just didn’t want to rush things if you didn’t--” he said, but Link cut him off by pulling him up to a kiss, biting his lower lip and tugging it before letting go and looking at him.

“It’s not rushing things,” Link said. In his mind, it really didn’t feel like it was. “We should have done this a decade ago, Rhett,” he muttered. “Or, maybe not a decade,” he reminded himself. They’d have only been 14. “You know what I mean.” The details didn’t matter -- it was one of those things that felt like so long coming it could never be too soon, too rushed -- as long as they did this  _ now. _

“You’re right,” Rhett said. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.” His breath hitched as he unbuttoned Link’s jeans, tugging them down and kissing down his body. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” This wasn’t news to Link. It had been, but it wasn’t now. Now, it was clear, a million details he’d wished he’d realized sooner but none of that mattered because he knew it now. They could talk later. Right now, they had 24 hours to make up for lost time, to make up for weeks and months and years apart that they’d have been better off together for. Link didn’t regret the paths their lives took them in, was happy making music and knew Rhett, in spite of his homophobic team, liked his life in basketball, too. It didn’t matter they hadn’t done the things they planned to do together. What mattered was lost time that they could have  _ personally  _ been together, just like this.

Rhett’s mouth felt warm, inviting, comfortable, and the sounds he made, the way he looked up at Link, all of it only served to get Link harder, to make him crave Rhett more.

* * *

 

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Rhett said, and the weight of his words once he said him hit him hard. He truly had wanted Link for so long. Sure, six years that he was aware of, six years since they’d parted ways and he’d feared he’d lost Link forever. But it was more than that, a lifetime of that, and the need was all piling up right here. No matter how much they released the pressure by messing around when they’d been back home, and no matter how much their long-distance Facetime hookup had helped, Rhett was overcome with need as he wrapped his lips around Link, found himself sliding his lips along bare skin and swirling his tongue around the tip of Link’s cock.

He was nervous. It wasn’t his first time with a guy, not really, but it would have been Link’s, and there was a part of him acutely aware of that. He needed Link, wanted him, but wanted this to live up to expectations or be good for him. “Rhett, fuck me,” Link groaned, arching his back off of the bed as Rhett stroked him, lapping at the skin just below his shaft. “Please.”

* * *

 

What Rhett was doing felt amazing, and Link wasn’t sure how much more he could take. His fingers were tangled in Rhett’s hair, less as a guide of where Rhett should go and more to ground himself to the situation, reassure him this wasn’t some bizzare dream or send him into an out-of-body experience. He could feel his back arch off the bed and that felt involuntary. It was like a spasm of  _ oh fuck, this is too good.  _ “Rhett, fuck me… please…” he groaned out, needy and whiny as he said it.

“Okay,” Rhett said, moving back up to Link’s mouth, kissing him, grinding down against him. Link shuddered at how it felt, something akin to heaven. “You sure?”

“I’m sure,” Link breathed, and Rhett moved back off of him, shuffling in his bedside table.

“Oh, fuck. I’m so sorry. It’s been… Jeez, it’s been like six months, I don’t have anything,” Rhett said. He grabbed a bottle of lube and set it on the bedside table. “If you give me like, 10 minutes I can run down the street to the gas station and get some,” he said, smacking his face with his palm probably much harder than he intended to.

Link propped himself up on his elbows and looked at Rhett. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to have to go get them.” He thought about their options, the pace slowed down now, despite the fact that he was no less aroused than he’d been in the heat of the moment. Rhett was still standing there naked, still close to him, within breathing range. This wasn’t exactly halting his need much. “You’ve been tested, right?” Link asked him.

“Yeah,” Rhett said. “I’m clean.”

“I got tested after, uh… you know, really recently, too.” After Amber. He didn’t want to say her name right now, not when he was getting ready to sleep with Rhett. It was weird. “Do we need them?”

“I guess not,” Rhett said, grabbing the lube and lying back down on the bed with Link. With any other partner, Link would have been more cautious, maybe taken the offer of getting condoms from the store, asked to see concrete evidence of results and testing, but with Rhett? He could pinpoint a Rhett lie from a mile away, and anyway, he trusted him completely. He tugged him closer, and within seconds, they were right back where they’d been, grinding on each other for any amount of contact they could get, kissing each other, with Link panting and whining desperately.

“Please, Rhett,” he pleaded. He couldn’t wait any longer. Rhett folded him in half, mouth exploring elsewhere, getting on his most intimate space and making him whine. It felt so good and intense and amazing, sensations he could never replicate himself. He’d done his fair share of googling on how to get ready for something like this, taken care of it before he landed. He’d even bought a toy about the size of Rhett, tried to prepare himself in that way, too, to get used to taking it. He wasn’t sure if Rhett realized that, because he’d felt weird about mentioning it, about saying “Hey, even though we’ve never gotten to do this thing together, I’ve already tried it with something as close to you as I can get,” like he was taking something from Rhett by doing so, even if he logically knew that Rhett wouldn’t feel that way about it. Hell, he’d probably be encouraged by it.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Rhett asked, “We can, uh… you can do it the other way around if you want, you know?” Rhett mentioned to him.

“Do you have a preference?” Link asked. He hadn’t thought to ask, hadn’t considered it. He’d sort of considered the fact that since he was shorter, smaller, that it just went that way. There was no consideration on his part that Rhett might prefer something else.

“I’m fine either way. It’s whatever you want,” Rhett told him.

“Fuck me. We still have, what, 22 hours? We can try it the other way later,” Link said. They were talking through it too much, he thought, and part of him worried they were talking themselves out of this.

* * *

“Do you have a preference?” Link asked him. Rhett did have a preference: his preference was Link, in any way he could get him. Topping, bottoming, he really didn’t care if he was doing it with Link. It didn’t matter. He needed this, needed Link, needed whatever they were about to do.

“I’m fine either way. It’s whatever you want,” Rhett settled on. He didn’t want to say anything too intense, like that his preference was Link. But he worried he’d hurt Link, that this would be too much for him.

“Fuck me. We still have what, 22 hours? We can try it the other way later.” Link was right. It wasn’t much time, but it was enough. Rhett didn’t need to hesitate or worry -- he trusted Link fully, trusted that this would be amazing regardless of what they did. He decided to go for it, folding Link again and continuing to lick and gently bite at his skin, prodding his tongue into him and listening to the moans and whimpers from Link’s lips.

Link responded to his every touch, to one finger, then two. Rhett couldn’t wait much longer, couldn’t resist having him, being so close to him, so he released Link, leaning down into him and kissing him. It had been so long, and he knew he wouldn’t last long with Link, not with how he felt, how this felt. So, he pushed into him, kissing him still, and knowing he was going to make the most of every second they had together, and of every second he lasted. “Fuck, baby,” Link said, gripping the sheets and tugging himself toward Rhett to take him deeper. “That feels so good.”

Fireworks weren’t the right way to describe it, nor was magic. Instead, it felt like two halves of a whole stitched back together, the missing puzzle piece in Rhett’s life notched firmly into place. Not that sex was the factor there, but instead that them, being in one place and whole, was enough to make him feel good, overwhelmed with the comfort of having Link in his arms and feeling himself inside of him. “I love you,” Link said, breathing in sharply with each thrust and push as Rhett picked up the pace. “I love you so much.”

That was enough for Rhett, enough to send him over the edge and spilling into Link, enough to feel Link clench around him as he came onto himself. It wasn’t always that partners came at the same time, but it felt like they’d built up to this, that despite the time apart, they’d spent so much of their lives in sync that it made sense this was no different.

After, Rhett laid beside Link, breathing hard and trying to compose himself. Neither of them moved, neither of them tried to clean up after. They just stayed like that, breathing and thinking. “You know,” Rhett said, “I just booked plane tickets to see you for a few days.”

* * *

 

Link’s mind raced at that. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. If I could find my phone right now I’d prove it,” Rhett said, chuckling.

“When?”

“Tomorrow. I was going to fly out in the morning, spend a couple of days in New York and hope you had a few hours free for me, then fly back in time for my photo shoot and for the actual practice to start up again next Monday. It wasn’t much time, but I figured it was something.”

“Can you imagine if we’d have crossed paths again? If you’d flown out today instead and I ended up here and you there?” Link panicked, but then softened, chuckling. “Thank God it didn’t happen like that.”

“Oh,” Rhett groaned. “I don’t even want to consider that.”

“Come home with me,” Link said before he thought about anything. If Rhett was truly going to come and see him, had already cancelled things, Link couldn’t see why it wouldn’t work for him to do that.

“What?”

“Cancel your flight in. Come home with me. I have a private flight back. Stay with me a few days, then fly home. You can take the plane I booked or use the tickets you have or whatever. Please?”

Link held his breath without realizing it, hoping for a yes to his question.

“Okay.”


	13. Eating Out

“Pizza?” Link asked, towel around his waist and water still running down his body.

“Do you have another idea of something we can order?” Rhett asked. They’d already exhausted Chinese for lunch, a barbecue place that sold something decidedly not up to their North Carolina standards for dinner, and a midnight cookie delivery service as options. It may have been 8am, but Rhett was keeping pizza on the table as a possibility.

“It’s only eight!” Link whined. “New plan: how about I eat  _ you  _ for breakfast and then we pick something up to take with us on the flight?” Link asked. Rhett groaned. His stomach was growling. Food, sex, he was insatiable for both things, but Link had one singular focus.

“I’d say I was down for that but you literally did that before our shower, babe,” Rhett told him. They’d had sex just about every conceivable way they could, in every configuration, place around Rhett’s house, and every type. They didn’t have a ton of time together, even with Rhett’s plan to go back with Link, because Link still had work while he was in town. Rhett had encouraged them to make the most of it, and they’d only really kept their hands off of each other long enough to eat some food and check out something new on Netflix.

“Oh, sure, I see how it is,” Link said, but the playful smile clued Rhett into the idea that he was teasing.

“What if,” Rhett asked him, “I eat the pizza and you eat my ass?” He cackled over his own suggestion, picking up the phone to dial the local pizza place.

* * *

 

Rhett suggested it outlandishly, like it was a complete and total joke, but Link cocked his head to one side while Rhett laughed, listening to ringing on the other end of the phone. “We could do that. I could lay down and you could sit on my face, and you could use my stomach as a table.” He was actually really into the idea, more than he thought he would be. He wanted more of Rhett, and Rhett wanted food, so it wasn’t exactly an awful plan.

“I was joking, Link,” Rhett said. He paused for a moment, hand over the receiver. “Wait, are you serious? Do you actually want to or are you messing with me right now?”

“I’m serious. I think it sounds like a fun thing to try.” Link meant it sincerely. He was actually interested in the idea, especially because he’d have done anything Rhett wanted to in that moment, to be honest. This sounded like the perfect compromise, a way for them to pair sex and food in the best ways. Link could feel himself getting hard again, tenting the towel slightly, and he palmed at it both for relief and to cover himself a little bit.

“Oh my gosh, Link, again already?”

“I can’t help it!” Link whined. It wasn’t his fault they barely got time together. Being this close to Rhett, smelling, him, seeing him, just as shower-slicked, hair wet and pushed back but not  _ done _ , it all evoked a pavlovian response in him. He was close to Rhett, therefore he was really horny, and he wondered how they were going to get through his few days of work like this. He had to get it together before the studio, or he was going to lose his mind.

* * *

Rhett was teasing Link about his physical reaction, but it was stirring something up in Rhett, too, giving him that feeling deep in his stomach, the one of arousal and need, an ache of desire, a steam valve needing release again. He had no idea how, after six months of not even really having sex before seeing Link again, he was suddenly constantly in go-mode. “I guess we have to scrap that plan,” Rhett said, hanging the phone up.

“Why?” Link asked, wrapping his arms around Rhett and leaning his head on his shoulder.

“Pizza place is closed,” Rhett said. He was disappointed, but at the same time, he didn’t mind much. “Guess they don’t want us eating pizza at eight in the morning, do they?”

“Sorry,” Link muttered. Rhett would probably be sleeping at that time, but Link was operating on New York time, four hours ahead of him, and for Link, 8am was 11. Still early, but not so early that Link wasn’t ready to wake up and get on top of Rhett. Rhett didn’t mind the early wake-up call, either, the feeling of Link touching him and grinding against him.

“It’s okay,” Rhett said, dipping down and scooping Link up in his arms. “Looks like it’s a sign we need to get back to bed.” When he dropped Link on the bed again, his back whined in protest another time. He was going to have to stop picking Link up like that, carrying him to the bedroom, but it was hard. Link was so sexy and he liked being able to carry him around, toss him onto the bed.

Link unfastened his towel, spreading it open to reveal his naked body. “Oh, look, I’m already naked, how convenient.” He giggled, and Rhett rolled his eyes, dropping his own towel to the floor. Pizza could wait. They didn’t have to be to the small industrial airport for another four hours, and Rhett was pretty sure Link had the right idea about how to kill time.

Rhett was still slicked up from the time Link had fucked him just before the shower. They’d taken their turns and taken their time to give each other what they wanted, but right now, it was clear what Rhett wanted. He was already stroking Link, getting him hard as Link laid back on the bed, watching and letting Rhett lean into slow kisses.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Link said, and Rhett smiled, something warm that gave his cheeks a little redness, made them puff up over his beard.

“Thanks,” he said, whisper-soft as he moved to straddle Link. “God, how are you this horny?” he asked, as if he wasn’t just as hard himself, just as ready to go.

“I have a really hot boyfriend,” Link said, “and he lives on the other side of the country so every time I’m around him I’m like hhhnngnggggghnhhhh,” Link groaned out. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t a word. It made perfect sense to Rhett.

* * *

As Rhett sank onto Link’s cock, Link couldn’t help but continue the groan he’d let out but now it was breathier, whinier, more content and more worked up than he’d jokingly started the word. He let Rhett control the pace, planting a foot on either side of him and riding him. Link’s hands reached down to grab his ass, to steady him and help control the speed, but also to give himself the best view. He loved watching Rhett sink onto him, take his cock. It was hard not to lick and bite his own lips in pleasure and lust.

“God,” Link muttered. “You’re so good at that. You ride my dick so nice.”

“Fuck, Link,” Rhett grunted. He was athletic but riding Link this hard, this fast, getting it on for the second time that day wore him out more than any team workout could have, or so Rhett told him, and Link felt a sense of pride in that.

Because of the number of times they’d gotten off that weekend together, there was no pressure or fear one of them would come too soon. They were fully spent now, doing this for the pleasure of it more than the release. It was about the time together, the connection, both physical and emotional, that was wrapped in what they were doing. Link wanted this. Rhett wanted this and it was obvious with every movement downward on Link’s dick. Link reached up, playing with Rhett’s nipples and watching as Rhett threw his head back, groaning.

When his legs were tired, they moved, letting Link take charge again. Time wasn’t a factor, as long as they were mostly dressed by the time Link’s alarm would go off. He’d set one just in case, for exactly this reason. There was a solid chance they’d either be napping, or they’d be fucking, or they’d be otherwise too focused on each other to remember they had a deadline and a plane to catch, a place to be.

Mostly Link was thankful that when he did have to leave, Rhett would be coming with him. He figured Samantha would understand, but he wasn’t about to text her and warn her. It was going to be a whole hell of a lot easier to ask her forgiveness than her permission, so she’d find out when he showed up to the studio. After all, it was only a couple of days.

 

 


	14. Join the Club

Rhett wasn’t familiar with what private planes were like, not like this. He’d been on his fair share with the team, flying to games, particularly playoffs, but those were crowded with the whole team, staff, coaches, doctors, and they usually had all of the typical accoutrements of flying commercially, like a stewardess and Gatorade served in-flight or something. Flying with Link was different, the way they could ease up to the plane a few minutes late, waiting for pizza due to meet them at the airfield (under Rhett’s name, of course, since Link was still supposedly sick in New York City). Rhett didn’t know the etiquette or if Link buying the pilot and co-pilot some pizzas was normal or something Link did. Either way, flying private with Link was an experience. Once the pilot greeted them, once the plane was closed, once the cockpit was sealed, it was just the two of them.

That was the best way to spend time, too, having the space to themselves. Before the flight took off, Link dug into the pizza, arguably hungrier than Rhett by now, which wasn’t typical. Rhett was eating, too, pizza on his lap, chair turned toward Link. “So this is what it’s like to fly like this?” Rhett asked him.

“I guess so. I mean, I asked for privacy, and it looks like we definitely got privacy.” That’s all Rhett wanted… more time alone with him.

* * *

 

Takeoff had Link feeling the usual nerves. He didn’t know why, but flying left him a little anxious, a little uneasy, mostly at the part where they went up and the part they went down. It wasn’t terrible, though, not having Rhett by his side. And they were -- truly -- side by side in the oversized space. They didn’t have to be, but they wanted to be.

Before the pre-flight checks were complete, they’d already both downed their entire pizzas, a large to themselves when they couldn’t quite agree on toppings.

“Alright, boys, it looks like we’ll be taking off in about 3 or 4 minutes. Best to go ahead and get your seatbelts on,” the pilot’s voice said, crackling over a cabin loudspeaker.

Link pressed a button. “Got it. Once those lights are off, though, we’re okay to be wherever back here?”

The captain crackled over again, “yup, sure thing. Not anticipating any turbulence on our flight today looking at the weather report, so as long as that light’s off, you’re welcome to do whatever you please.”

“Thank you, sir!” Link said, finger on the button again for a moment, then back off of it as soon as he was done speaking. “See? Whole flight to ourselves to do  _ whatever  _ we want,” Link said. He had something in mind, but he wasn’t quite sure Rhett would go for it. He hoped he would, though, and as Rhett leaned into him, he was ready to tempt him and find out.

“Whatever we want?” Rhett asked him.

“Whatever we want,” Link said. “For example, while the pilot is playing with a joystick up there trying to get this plane up… I’m thinking maybe I should be playing with a… joystick back here… get my boyfriend up.” Link’s hand wandered over to the crotch of Rhett’s sweatpants, eyes asking a question.

“Fuck, Link,” Rhett groaned slightly, shifting his hips forward in his seat to give Link room to work around the seatbelt.

* * *

 

Rhett couldn’t believe this was happening, that Link was doing this right there on the plane. He liked it, but he couldn’t believe it was happening. Link was literally giving him a handjob as the plane was taking off, all jerky down the runway in ways that only helped how it felt. There was something incredible about having someone’s hands on him while he was feeling the effects of less gravity, that momentary out-of-body experience that takeoff and landing caused.

“Isn’t joining the mile high club some sort of federal offense or somethin’?” Rhett asked. He loved it but he was nervous.

“I’d assume it is on a commercial plane, some safety issue or whatever. But look at this. Who’s stopping us, Rhett? Who’s telling us I can’t get you off on here? Hell, who would stop us from fucking right there if we wanted to?” Link asked, gesturing toward the open space in the center of the plane where an aisle might be if this plane didn’t have only eight seats on it.

Link was right. No one was there to stop them, and Rhett’s nerves were assuaged. From there, he was all-in, ready and willing for anything Link wanted. For now, it was a handjob because that damn seatbelt light was still on, but the second it turned off, Rhett was ready for more, thirsting for it. After all, who had a chance to join the mile high club and  _ didn’t  _ take that opportunity? Not Rhett McLaughlin, that was for sure. He kept looking at the light, the one that insisted their seatbelts stayed on. The plane was still climbing, not yet at altitude, and he knew it would be several long minutes before they could freely roam, before he could tug Link onto his lap and let Link ride him in this airplane, or hell, before he could ride Link. Whatever way Link wanted it, he could have it. They had a lot of hours to kill between LA and New York, about five hours, and it afforded them options, ways to get under each other’s skin and get each other all hot and bothered, then hopefully get it out of Link’s system since Rhett knew he had studio time to get back to the next day.

He didn’t want to distract, so if he could get Link now, even better.

* * *

 

Link could see how intently Rhett watched the seatbelt sign, how closely he eyed it, and he knew that Rhett was contemplating more than what they were doing now by the way he was squirming in his seat. “So once that light goes off, we can do anything?” Rhett asked him quietly.

Link gave his cock a small squeeze as he stroked it, fingertips teasing at the head of it, using the precome to help him out.

“Anything,” Link told him. “What do you have in mind?”

“I’m thinking when that sign goes off, you should get in my lap,” Rhett told him. “I want you.”

Link loved the sound of that, the way lust dripped from Rhett’s tongue with each word, the hazy look in his eyes with every touch Link was giving, every movement.

“That sounds perfect,” Link said. As if on cue, the light switched off.

“You’re now free to roam about the cabin,” the captain’s voice crackled on the loudspeaker. Rhett was halfway to moaning when Link put his hand over Rhett’s mouth, pressing the button. “Thank you,” he said, then released it, pressing it one more time when he felt it stick a little. “We will.”

Link barely let go of the button the second time before whipping off his seatbelt, smacking the side of his seat in the process as he stood, tugging his joggers down to his ankles as Rhett scrambled to unfasten his, too. They weren’t scrambling because they were in a hurry, Link knew -- no, they had a good four and a half hours before they’d land -- but because they were needy and desperate. Soon, Rhett would be back in LA and this would be the only thing they had to rely on, memories of how they’d spent the time they had together as they settled for their own palms and fingers for release. Even if they fucked until they were aching and raw, they were ready to squeeze it in as many times as they could, and Link was ready to feel Rhett inside of him again.

“Another perk of flying private,” Rhett said. “TSA can’t tell me I’m not allowed to bring this on the plane.” He reached into the bag beside him, pulling out a bottle of lube and drizzling it onto himself. They didn’t really need it, not with as many times as they’d fucked so far. Link was still slick from that morning, but anything helped.

* * *

If Rhett wasn’t already well-acquainted with the filthy things Link could say during sex, he’d be surprised how the sweet, southern boy he used to know could talk dirty the way he did. “Fuck, Rhett, oh my god, your cock feels so good. Fill me up, fuck, yeah, just like that,” he groaned as he sank onto Rhett’s dick, letting Rhett’s grip on his ass help ease him down.

“You like that, baby?” Rhett asked him, holding tightly to him.

“Yeah, oh my god, I love it so much,” Link grunted. “Love your cock so much, daddy,” he said, the word escaping from his lips before he could second-guess it. It didn’t matter that they were both 24 -- for that moment, Rhett was feeling good, riding the high of being called daddy like that in the heat of the moment. It was unexpected and hot, the idea of Link being that into it, that unrestrained.

“God, Link, that’s so fucking hot,” Rhett moaned out, kissing Link’s shoulder as Link bounced on his lap. The view he had of Link riding him like that, sitting on his lap, hell, practically twerking on his dick? It rivaled the view out the windows, the way they were floating above clouds, blissful sun shining through. His sole focus was on Link and the way he rode him, the way it felt.

“Fuck me hard, Rhett, please, oh my god,” Link begged, and that had Rhett lifting Link off of him, turning them and bending him over the chair so he could drive into him.

“Like that, baby?”

* * *

 

Everything Rhett was doing was working for Link, the way he felt and the way he pushed into him, the way he fucked him hard without slowing down. “Fuck me hard, Rhett, please, oh my god.” Link was begging for it, and the way Rhett moved them had him weak as he slumped over the chair, feeling Rhett force himself deeper inside of him.

“Like that, baby?” Rhett asked him.

Link was almost delirious with pleasure. “Oh my god, daddy, yeah, just like that, fuck, it feels so good.” He couldn’t control the words coming from his mouth. “Yeah, fuck me harder with that thick cock, take me, Rhett, oh my god, fuck.” His moans were getting louder and he was positive that, sealed door or no, the pilot could hear how hard he was getting nailed in the plane. It didn’t matter to him if they heard -- let them listen, he thought, let them hear how good he was getting it. Link wasn’t going to quiet down, no, not when Rhett felt this good, covered him so well, filled him up the way he did.

“I’m going to come,” Rhett warned.

* * *

 

“Fuck, Rhett, yeah, oh my god… fuck… come for me, please, fuck…” Link whimpered in response, barely able to keep himself steady. Rhett did, coming with an animalistic sound. He had to get Link off, too, needed to get him to come just as hard, so he slid out, flipping them to get Link into the seat and dropping to his knees in front of the airplane seat. He was thankful for the space a private plane allowed, that there wasn’t a chair in front of Link to have to deal with. It was open space that allowed him what he needed to get Link’s ass to the edge of the seat, let Link lean back in the comfortable luxury seats as Rhett found his way to Link’s entrance, lapping what he’d just spilled inside out of him.

“Fuck, Rhett, oh my god,” Link muttered again. He couldn’t seem to get out of the words he was locked in, the same cycle of fuck, oh my god, Rhett’s name all over again, but Rhett loved it, loved that he was doing so well that Link was practically babbling all over himself. “Oh my god, yeah, fuck,” he groaned again and it was sending reverberations of feelings and need straight to Rhett’s dick, even if he’d just found release.

Link was still hard, still dripping, still dying to come and Rhett loved the tease, the way he wasn’t getting his mouth on Link’s cock just yet, slowly stroking as he ate him out, prodding his tongue into him as Link reached between his legs to grab Rhett’s hair. “God, yeah, eat my ass, that feels so good, fuck, fuck, fuck, Rhett, yeah.”

Link was crumbling, falling apart under each touch and Rhett could tell he was getting close. It was enough that he had to get his lips on him, suck him off and take care of Link’s release, his need, his desperation. He replaced his tongue with his fingers inside of Link as he choked on his cock, sucking him off with vigor and anticipation of the way Link would come for him. “Oh my god, Rhett, I’m going to come, fuck, I’m--”

Rhett pulled back just enough to tell him to do it, deciding to talk just as filthy as Link had been. “Yeah, baby, that’s good, spill your seed down my throat.” Rhett wasn’t used to dirty talk, not like this, not so filthy and graphic, but the way Link was using words was turning him on and it felt like something fun to explore. It seemed to work, too, because Link did what he asked, coming hard and practically coming out of his seat in the process, gripping the arms. He was breathless and Rhett was resting his head on Link’s leg, trying to compose himself after all of it.

“Attention Mr. Neal and guest, we are approaching some turbulence over Kansas City. I’d advise you to fasten your seatbelts if you haven’t already. Thank you!” came the crackle over the speaker.

Link tried to depress the button nearest him, not getting it to work at all, jiggling at it to no avail. Instead, he leaned across Rhett’s lap as Rhett tried to pull his pants on in the plane now that he was seated back in his chair. Link pushed the button over him, breathlessly blurting out a “thank you,” as he tried to contain himself. He’d have to wait until after the turbulence to get his pants back on.


	15. Leak Neal

“Link, a word,” Sam said, staring them down in the studio.

“You can tell me here,” Link said to her, unmoving. He was sitting on the couch, legs draped over Rhett’s lap, scribbling away in a notebook.

“No, I can’t.” She stood firm, staring him down and challenging him to keep protesting.

“Go, babe,” Rhett said, tapping Link’s leg.

Reluctantly, Link did what he was asked, standing up and following her out the door to an office.

“What’s up?”

“First of all, blindsiding me by having your boyfriend show up to the studio unannounced? You really weren’t going to tell me ‘hey, I had him hop a flight back with me and he’s going to be around’ until after you showed up?”

“Figured it was better if I asked forgiveness than permission,” Link shrugged. “He had already purchased tickets to surprise me before his season starts and it didn’t make sense that we would lose those extra hours together by flying in separately. He’s going home Wednesday. Is it really that big of a deal?”

“It’s not that, Link. It’s that I bought time for you saying you were sick and you fucked me over. It’s not you that looks like the unprofessional one here. It’s me that looks like the liar. Now everybody knows you weren’t sick and I was covering for you.”

“Yeah, like I can’t make sure they get over it. I’ve been professional my whole career, Sam. I’ve never gotten into trouble, I’ve never been creating scandals for you to wipe away. Outside of Amber’s bullshit, I’ve consistently made sure that I was on time, in line, everything else. You can’t give me one pass for one little slip? Besides, how the fuck does this change anything about me being sick? Nobody knows he flew back with me instead of flying in on his own.”

“That’s the other issue. Are you sure you can trust him?” Sam asked.

“Sam, what the hell? Obviously I can trust him.” Link couldn’t believe she was asking such a stupid question. There was no one in the world he trusted more than Rhett, no one he believed and felt connected to more.

“Because you two are together and have been for what, a month? Something like that? That doesn’t mean he’s not a fame-grabber, Link. Use your head,” Sam gave Link a small shove to the arm to punctuate her point.

“Because I’ve known him my whole life, Sam. Why the fuck would be be a fame-grabber when being with me has only served to cause him issues with his career? People are all freaked out there’s a gay guy on their team!”

“That’s exactly the point, Link. Are you sure he’s not going to sell aspects of your relationship to the press to pad his wallet for his failing career?” Sam asked him, cocking her head to one side.

“I’m saying he’s still making money Sam, so no, he isn’t selling anything about our relationship. What the fuck are you even talking about?” The look on her face said there was something she wasn’t telling him.

“I’m saying I need to know you’re 100% sure he isn’t responsible for anything that ends up in the press.”

“The only thing he’s done, press-wise, is working on that campaign for equality in sports. That’s all he’s worried about: making sure that school athletics are safe for people like him, people like  _ me _ . That’s it!”

“Okay. In that case, maybe this is something you both need to hear,” Sam said, shrugging and shaking her head. “I have a feeling you’re not going to be a fan of this.”

* * *

 

Rhett sat in the studio room waiting. They’d had a busy morning, staying up half the night fucking and talking and cuddling, and it had led to them oversleeping a little bit. They’d gotten to the studio minutes before Sam had told them to, and Rhett had even forgotten his phone at Link’s house in the rush. He didn’t have anything to do while he sat there, so he picked at loose threads on the couch and stared into space. Link had recorded a song that morning, and it had gone more quickly than everyone seemed to expect, which was why someone had dipped out to grab lunch for everybody and they’d all been on break for the last twenty minutes.

Rhett had been excited that it was time he and Link could cuddle on the couch while Link scribbled out some thoughts for a track he wanted to work on that afternoon, one he didn’t feel had the right flow quite yet when he’d gone over it on the plane after turbulence. He’d rapped it for Rhett a few times and there was a line or two still catching him, still sounding off, and Rhett could tell, but it wasn’t his skill-set to fix it. He’d tried, and Link had appreciated it, even using one of his lines. Still, something was missing from it.

Mostly, Rhett wished he wasn’t sitting there alone. If Sam had pulled Link aside to tell him it was an issue that Rhett was there, Rhett didn’t mind taking a Lyft back to Link’s apartment, waiting for his studio time to be over with and connecting with him after. He didn’t care. Mostly, he wished someone would tell him instead of letting him sit there in silence, waiting and wondering.

But then Link was ushered back into the room, Sam behind him. She locked the door, and Rhett wondered if she was technically allowed to lock the studio owners out, if they’d be annoyed. It didn’t even seem to cross her mind, though, so he figured it must be okay.

“Okay, here’s the deal. Link trusts you,” she started.

_ Uh yeah, I’d hope so,  _ Rhett thought to himself, but mostly he nodded slowly. “Okay. I trust him, too,” Rhett added.

“What I mean is, I need you two to think about who might want to make money off of your relationship.”

“Honestly, Sam, get on with it. We could probably figure it out if you tell us what’s going on.”

“Here,” Sam said, holding out her phone and pressing play.

“Yeah, oh my god, I love it so much. Love your cock so much, daddy,” Link’s voice crackled over her phone speaker. Rhett’s blood ran cold.

“God, Link, that’s so fucking hot,” Rhett heard himself answer Link.

“Fuck me hard, Rhett, please, oh my god.”

“Like that, baby?” Sam hit pause after Rhett’s second answer, cutting the audio off abruptly.

“I’m going to be honest. I could have gone my entire life without knowing that my biggest star liked calling his boyfriend ‘daddy’ during sex. Regardless, here we are. You two want to take a wild guess at who heard that clip and a whole heck of a lot more that I didn’t play for you?”

* * *

 

“The pilot?” Link asked, suddenly remembering. “My intercom button was stuck afterwards. They said we needed to sit in our seats and buckle up after, and I went to reply and mine was acting up. I used Rhett’s to tell them thanks.” He felt so stupid in hindsight, felt ridiculous for not realizing that he’d likely given the pilots an earful. “Listen, if they’re complaining, I can—”

“It wasn’t a complaint, Link. Someone sold the clip to TMZ. It’s not just the pilots who have heard it. It’s basically the entire world now. The slightly censored version is all over TV, but the uncensored clip is all over the internet. It’s the first time an audio-only clip has trended on PornHub. Do you realize how fucking stupid we all look right now? ‘Oh, Link’s sick at home in bed so he can’t come in,’ and instead you’re getting nailed on an airplane and calling someone ‘daddy’? And you,” she turned to Rhett, “for someone who is supposedly getting a lot of heat in the locker room for being gay, you really, really just fucked yourself over by giving them a lot more ammunition to work with.”

Link felt more like a child being scolded by his parent than a grown man, and he shrank into himself. “I’m sorry,” he said. He didn’t know what else to say.

“You have to hope this isn’t career suicide. I’d say that any publicity is good publicity, but  _ pornhub?  _ Come on, guys. Use your heads. The ones in your actual, y’know, skulls. We all know which ones you’ve been thinking with.”

* * *

 

Part of Rhett felt a little bit ridiculous about the whole situation, especially given that Sam wasn’t part of his career at all. She wasn’t his agent, his manager, his anything. She was only working for Link. Why she was chastising him, he didn’t know. Except he  _ did  _ know. The things he did directly impacted Link now. And vice versa, but he didn’t have the level of fame that required getting yelled at. Then again, had he not left his phone at Link’s place, he probably would have been able to field the dozens of calls and texts he was getting. Mostly, he hoped his parents didn’t know about it yet.

Then again, he thought, if they did it wasn’t a surprise. They already thought he was a sinful, horrible person. Why not add this to it? Mostly, he wondered what the ramifications would be overall. It could destroy him, given how homophobic everyone was.  _ What’s the worst thing about that?  _ Rhett thought. His career was already nearing its end the more his back protested and whined after games. He was one injury away from being done. If he stopped playing, he could always move to New York. Nothing would stop him from doing that.

But he shut those thoughts down. As much history as they had, and as much as he was certain of a future with Link, he didn’t want to move fast or get ahead of himself. He was still under contract, and this was a complete problem. “So what can we do?” Rhett asked.

“The way I see it, I’m not really sure. The clip’s out there. If I reach out and try to have it taken down, it’ll only spread. You remember what happened with that picture of Beyonce?” Link nodded, but Rhett didn’t have a clue. “We could sue the pilots for damages, and probably will, but there’s a good chance other pilots will side with them and make it a bitch and a half for us to get private flights for the tour.”

“I’ll take a bus,” Link said. “I think that’s the best course of action. We sue them for damages. And then I think we need to donate that money to an LGBT+ charity to make it clear that it isn’t about the money, but about the principle of the thing. Our privacy was invaded and I honestly thought we were alone. If they heard through the door, whatever, but to record it and share it openly? That’s a problem.”

“Okay. We’ll sue. You two considered starting a charity yourself? We can give some to an existing charity, but maybe we can create one that serves LGBT youth in the arts and athletics. It’ll make you both look more altruistic if it’s an ongoing thing,” Sam suggested.

“I don’t think it’s about making us look good,” Rhett piped in. “I think it’s about making sure something good comes from something really shitty.”

“That’s exactly it,” Link said. “I’m not opposed to us creating a foundation, but this isn’t just some PR stunt, Sam.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “Fine. We will work that out and we’ll brainstorm a charity— not as PR, but because you two are the perfect spokesman for a thing like that. Something like the High Hopes foundation or whatever. Or, uh, Miley and Liam’s thing. We’ll get it sorted out. In the meantime, there’s no way I can get the clip taken down. I think it’ll only fan the flames if I try.”

“Fine,” Link shrugged. “I think I have an idea of what to do with it anyway.”

“You’re going to have to share that idea with the class, Link, because your tour starts in a week and a half and we don’t have much time to run with it if you’re planning something big,” Sam said. Link didn’t have time to share, though, because the knock on the studio door said it was time for lunch.


	16. Man With a Plan

More than anything, Link wanted to spend his time with Rhett while he was here. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to do a little damage control while he did. “Do you think you can stay an extra day?” Link asked him, twirling his fingers through Rhett’s hair as they laid together after a long shower, both still naked and a little damp.

“I’d be cutting it close on getting back in time for the first official practice, but I might be able to make it work,” Rhett said. “Why?”

“I want to see if Sam can schedule an impromptu surprise first concert of the tour, some sort of pop-up event. Hell, maybe I’ll even see if she can do it in LA instead.”

“Link, that’s in two days,” Rhett protested, and Link let out a soft sigh in response.

“I know. There’s no way it’ll work. I was just thinkin’...” he trailed off. He wanted to do  _ something,  _ felt the need to do something somehow. Mostly, he wanted Rhett to be there for his show, and this was the only way to do that. And, if he was being honest, he needed a few minutes in the studio to make things work anyway. A few minutes without Rhett. That was the hard part. If Rhett could stay another day, he’d feel a little less shitty about missing that time.

“Try it anyway.”

* * *

Rhett loved Link, but sometimes he was exhaustingly crazy. His wild ideas that kept his mind constantly running made Rhett wonder if Link was setting himself up for disappointment. He didn’t mind the idea that Link might want studio time instead of time with him. And he definitely didn’t mind the idea of staying another day with Link. But the thought that Link would try to make a new secret song and plan a concert and be  _ ready  _ for the concert in the span of literal days? That was a little crazy. Still, he felt like maybe Link had the right idea.

Link had stayed tight-lipped about what he wanted to do, but Rhett could probably guess. It was all related to damage control, to the audio leaked, to trying to make sure it wasn’t used against them, or if it was, that they got the final say.

“I know, there’s no way it’ll work. I was just thinkin’...” Link said, trailing off. Rhett didn’t want to be the one to squash this, not when he believed that Link was doing his best to fix things for them. Not that things between them were broken, but that things were sort of broken across their lives. Rhett already knew the sound of them fucking would haunt him in the locker room. He could already hear what people would say.

If Link had a plan, Rhett was ready to see what it was. “Try it anyway.”

* * *

Rhett’s encouragement was all Link needed to feel confident, even if Sam would laugh in his face about it. It didn’t matter if she did. He’d make it work, with or without her. Things were simply easier with her. As he dialed the phone, he prepared for her laughter. “Hey, Sam, what are the odds you could book an LA-based venue for a small VIP show?”

“Pretty high, depends on when.”

“Day after tomorrow,” Link said, biting his lip and waiting for her to lose it on him for that.

“You are honestly asking me if I can find you a venue before the day after tomorrow? Are you even ready?”

“It can be a small show, a pre-tour kickoff show. It doesn’t have to be big. Hell, make it a donation-only show and I’ll donate the money and we won’t have to worry about ticketing before the event. Is that even something we can do?”

“It’s a stretch, I’m going to be honest with you,” Sam told him, speaking the truth as best as she could. Link was trying not to get his hopes up, but the answer was still a let down.

“Can you try?”

“You know the label is going to think you’re going rogue and being wild, right? We’d have to pull some serious strings. Are you opposed to making it a party you happen to be performing at instead of a show? We might be able to skirt around some label requirements if you do that,” she suggested. At this point, Link would do anything.

“Party it is. Can we throw it together in time?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. Do your best, I guess. Oh, and Sam? I need some studio time. Three or four hours. I have a new song and I need to record it.”

“You’re killing me, Neal. You’re seriously killing me.”

“I love you, Sam.”

Link didn’t wait for her answer before hanging up the phone.

* * *

“So we’re actually doing this?” Rhett asked. “In LA?”

“We’re doing this. I mean, obviously she doesn’t have it all together, but I think it’s happening.” Link laid back down beside Rhett, and Rhett couldn’t resist his naked outstretched frame.

“Well then, I guess we better enjoy this bed before we go, hadn’t we?” Rhett asked, moving over onto Link and pinning Link’s hands with his wrists. “Better make really, really good use of it, right?” He kissed his way down Link’s body, hands still on Link’s wrists until he couldn’t reach any further. “You going to be good and keep those hands up there were I left them?” Rhett asked. Link swallowed and nodded. “Mmm, that’s my good bo,” Rhett sighed.

“Fuck, Rhett,” Link said, but Rhett was relentless and interested. He wanted Link, wanted to touch and taste and pull him closer, so he did, tugging Link’s hips upward and teasing his tongue in Link’s bellybutton. Link squirmed in response, wiggling his hips, hardening cock pressed to Rhett’s chest.

Rhett loved the way Link sounded, the way he wiggled, the way he felt against him. “Is ‘fuck, Rhett,’ an offer?” Rhett asked him.

“Yeah,” Link breathed. “Fuck, Rhett is definitely an — oh! — offer. Any way you want to take it.”

“I plan to take it every way,” Rhett told him, tapping his hip. “Roll over.”

Link was obedient, doing what Rhett asked as Rhett spread his legs apart, getting between them and lying on the bed, chest-down. With one hand, he reached under Link, pulling his cock down and spitting on it, then stroking it slowly. With his other, he spread Link apart, finding his ass and lapping at the tight skin there. Link’s whimpers were music to his ears, the sound of Link gasping as Rhett teased his cock and his hole, as he ran his tongue along his skin and surprised Link by nipping at his cheek.

* * *

Link couldn’t believe the way Rhett was assaulting his senses, the way he was so good at this. It was like his tongue was made to eat ass, the way he prodded his way inside of Link, then tongued along his taint with his nose against Link’s skin, pressing against him. “You want me to fuck you, bo?” Rhett asked him.

“Yeah,” Link said, “please, fuck me,” he pleaded. He was pretty desperate, and even though Rhett had told him to stay in imaginary restraints when he was on his back, he was willing to risk breaking that rule on his stomach, reach behind himself, pull Rhett’s hair. “I need to feel you in me.”

He did too, needed it. “Yeah?” Rhett asked, sitting up and pulling Link’s hips back to match, reaching for the lube and sliding a finger, then two, into Link.

“Please fuck me, Rhett,” Link urged, rocking his hips back to take more. “Stop teasing me and get in me.”

* * *

“Fine, fine,” Rhett joked, rolling his eyes a little. “I just figured we have all the time in the world.” It was easier that way, pretending like they did when they both knew they didn’t. “Okay, bo, I’ll fuck you.” He clicked open the cap of the lube again, coating himself and pressing against Link, then pausing. “Are you sure you want it?”

“I’m sure,” Link urged frantically.

“Have you made sure that all potentially recording devices are tur—”

“Rhett, shut up and fuck me already,” Link sighed, and Rhett laughed, kissing Link’s back and pushing into him slowly.

“Okay, I’ll fuck you. Breathe, baby.” He loved the way Link pushed for him, moaned for him, begged for him. It made him feel wanted in ways he’d never felt before. It made him crave Link’s touch even more.

And as he rocked into Link, he did everything he could to keep the thought out of his mind: in a few days, they’d be back to long distance and phone calls and waiting. Link would go on tour and Rhett would be back in LA, playing basketball and being on the road. It wasn’t what he wanted in the slightest, but he couldn’t think about that now. Now, he wanted to focus on how good things felt, how great it was to have Link in his arms, and if he was honest, how good it was to fuck him. Thrusting into him was magical, the slap of skin on skin, the way Link’s lithe body looked with Rhett’s hands on his waist… it was all beautiful to take in.

“Go harder, Rhett,” Link begged, reaching an arm back to pull him deeper.

“Okay, baby. I’ll fuck you harder. I’ll fuck you so hard,” Rhett said, gripping Link’s thighs and pulling him back hard, tugging him back again and again until neither of them could breathe easily.

“Harder,” Link gasped, but Rhett knew neither of them could handle harder even if Link was asking for it. It was a word, a way of talking dirty when he could only squeak out a couple of syllables, and Rhett loved the sound of it on his tongue. His hand wrapped around Link’s cock, stroking him with each thrust into him.

“I’m gonna cum,” Rhett warned him, nearly growling with his release into Link. If he could have, he would have kept fucking Link, and even as he pulled out, watched his seed trickle out, he pushed it back in with his cock. But he was overstimulated and overwhelmed and he needed to get Link off, so he pulled back out and flipped him, scooting down the bed and trying not to flinch at the feeling of the fabric sheets against his over-sensitive head. He dipped his head low and wrapped his lips around Link, looking up at him as he bobbed his head up and down, hollowing his cheeks to make Link feel good as Link tangled his fingers in his hair and pulled a little.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, Rhett, I’m so close,” he said, tossing his head back on the pillow and biting his lip. Rhett loved the view. “Shit, yeah, right there,” he muttered, voice quaking. “Right there.”

Rhett didn’t stop, kept going until Link was right on the edge, until the first spurt hit his tongue. Then, he pulled out and stroked, letting it coat his beard and drip onto Link’s waist. “Fuck, Rhett.”

* * *

Link wished he could stay tangled up in Rhett all day, especially after the way Rhett had made him feel like  _ that.  _ They laid there like that after for a few minutes, long enough that Link wondered if he could get a second wind enough to invite Rhett to the shower with him, knowing where that would lead. But then his phone rang and the spell broke for a second. “What’s up, Sam?” Link asked, knowing that Rhett was in bed with him and Sam was the only one who would be calling otherwise.

“What the  _ fuck  _ is it that I just heard going around online?”

“Amber?” Link furrowed his brow and sat up.

“You fucking asshole. So I guess this gay thing isn’t some phase you’re trying out to get back at me? Or is that what this is, you trying to make me jealous so I’ll beg for you to break up with him and come back to me? What is it, Link? What’s your game here?”

“Amber, it’s… it’s not a game, okay? I’m with Rhett, and that has nothing to do with you.”

“Yeah, mhmm, okay. Nothing to do with me. If that was the case, why would you leak the audio for me to hear?”

“We didn’t plan that, Amber. It happened without us knowing or consenting to it,” Link said, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers and pulling the sheet up over himself more. He didn’t want to have this conversation now, not with Rhett in his bed.

“Don’t act like you didn’t leak it, you fucking prick. You know how to play the media game as well as I do. You saw that I was out having fun and you decided to get back at me with some nasty sex tape. I’m surprised you didn’t have the balls to post a video, too. Or would that have required you to actually fuck him when we both know that your taste extends to models like me and not washed up has-been athletes like him?”

“Amber, shut up. Seriously, just stop. I didn’t leak the tape, but even if there was video, it wouldn’t have been any different. The sex is real, the love is real, and I don’t expect you to understand that. But the fact that you think I’d fake-fuck someone in order to get back at you for god-knows-what shows what a narcissistic bitch you can be. Do you really think that the things I think and do center around you so much that I’m picking up tabloids to figure out what you’re doing so I can stage some sort of payback? Get off of your high horse, Amber,” Link snapped. Rhett rubbed at his back and he wondered if he could hear Amber’s side of the conversation too, if he knew why Link was so frustrated and angry with her, or if Rhett only heard Link’s side, the name calling and childishness on his part.

“You really think you’re pulling this off? Whatever, Link. I don’t have time for this. You seriously fucked with the wrong girl, you know that? Karma is going to be the biggest bitch ever,” she cried. Link could hear the slur in her words now.

“Do you need me to call someone for you? A doctor? Your sponsor? A car to take you to a meeting? Seriously, just tell me what you need,” Link’s voice softened. He couldn’t stand her, and he stood by the things he said, but he didn’t want her to get hurt either.

“Yeah, there’s one thing. Could you jump off a bridge?” Amber asked, and before he could respond, the line went dead.

* * *

Rhett watched the lines of worry cross Link’s face. “Please tell me I’m nothing like her and that you’re not attracted to us because we’re so similar?” he asked jokingly, trying to cheer Link up.

“You’re nothing like her, babe,” Link sighed, leaning in and resting his head on Rhett’s shoulder. “You’re not even a little like her. I— gosh. I mean, I was attracted to her, don’t get me wrong, but so much of our relationship was marketing, I think. I’m pretty sure we both had real feelings, but a lot was manufactured for headlines. If we wanted to go on a date, that would go to the place that wanted publicity and was willing to pay for it. If we wanted to go somewhere, it was to make sure that we were seen there. Her publicists called the paparazzi about us so many times trying to get us seen together. It was exhausting. It was all about the fame and not really about our relationship. And then when she started spiraling and drinking and doing drugs again… that was an issue, too. But no, you’re not anything like her.” Link had been monologing, had been going on about his relationship, and Rhett hated that his concern made Link relive a situation that didn’t seem great.

More than anything, it made him fearful, that he was going to suck Link into that situation by accident. Now, it wasn’t them trying to make headlines, but them trying to catch up to the headlines they were already making. Rhett wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. Either way, they were headlines Rhett was sure Link didn’t want all the time. Not that they could be avoided. Link had always been a little bit in the spotlight, his fame skyrocketing so fast. Rhett was sure that some headlines were to be expected. But ever since they’d gotten together, they hadn’t left the center of the entertainment news cycle, save for a few times when a Kardashian would say someone was cheating. Even then, they were the main attraction. Rhett had even seen one of the news shows having mutterings that a celebrity who usually got the attention was now dating a woman, and as much as Rhett wanted to believe she had found true love the way he had, there was a part of him who wondered “is this for the headline?” He was mad at himself for even thinking that way.

“I’m glad to know I’m not like she is,” Rhett told him. “I would say we have some pretty noticeable differences,” Rhett laughed, looking down at his still naked body.

“Yeah, in that way you’re pretty different,” Link laughed, rolling over onto Rhett and kissing him, hands on his wrists. “In a lot of ways, you’re different. Better.”

Rhett almost wondered if Link was going to initiate again even though they’d just fucked. But then Link’s phone rang again.  _ Amber, so soon? _

* * *

“What?” Link snapped, certain it was Amber calling back after regretting how she’d hung up.

“Wow, ‘hi, Sam, thanks for all the help, Sam, you’re really working your ass off to save my sorry butt, Sam,’” Sam snarked back on the phone to him, sing-song and mocking in her words.

“I’m so sorry, Sam. I thought you were—”

“Amber? Yeah. She called me right after she called you and cussed me out. I swear I need to change my number one of these days.”

“Fuck, Sam, she seriously—” Link started, but Sam was in no-nonsense mode and cut him off again.

“If you want studio time today, you better be there in about 45 minutes. They’re squeezing you in and you don’t have a lot of time. I’m still working on an LA venue and trying to make sure the label isn’t going to absolutely murder us over an impromptu show.”

“Thanks, Sam. I’ll be there. Oh, and, no offense but I think I need to manage this one alone, so… I’ll call you in the car back.”

“Don’t fuck me over, Neal,” she said, but Link could hear the smile in her voice.

“Alone as in you don’t want me to go, either?” Rhett asked, sitting up to kiss Link’s back.

“Alone as in I want the first time you hear this song to be before my show, just the two of us, without the studio people around. Okay?”

“Okay, babe. Go on. Go make music.” Rhett kissed him, gave his hand a small squeeze, and laid back down in bed.


	17. Debut

Rhett stood in front of the stage, as close as he could get without the bouncers pushing him back in line with everyone else. He had a backstage pass to Link’s show, obviously, but there was something about this that Rhett wanted to experience from the front of the stage instead of behind it. He’d been backstage to give Link encouragement, slow kisses, anything he needed (and a quick blowjob, but no one had to know about that) before it was time for him to take the stage at his not-concert-definitely-party event. But as soon as the opening acts were done playing, Rhett made a beeline for the crowd, worming his way in. He felt a little badly for taking a front row spot because his height made it harder for everyone behind him, but he wasn’t missing this, not the way it was meant to be seen.

Honestly, he couldn’t believe they had even pulled it off. A charity party that was “definitely not a concert” to skirt around the rules in Link’s contracts with his labels? Sam was a miracle worker. Rhett liked her way better than any publicist or assistant he’d ever worked with. If her hands weren’t full and if he could have afforded her, and if she wasn’t strictly New York-based, Rhett would have been tempted to ask her if she’d work in the sports industry, too. For now, though, he was thankful for the things she did for him because he was Link-adjacent.

Dim lights made butterflies stir in Rhett’s stomach. A giant countdown on the screen at the back of the stage didn’t help matters. Rhett had no idea what to expect from a show like this. As close as he and Link were, Rhett had never been to his show. Every single time Link had been in LA, Rhett had bought tickets, not that Link knew that. But he’d chickened out every time, still fearful after the ill-fated kiss that kept them from speaking for years. Now that he  _ could  _ attend Link’s shows, he was upset that his basketball schedule would interfere completely. Tonight, though, he could enjoy this. Enjoy the moment, enjoy Link on stage, enjoy the atmosphere. He wanted to do all of that properly, not from a couch beside the stage where he could watch Link from the sidelines, but in the crowd, where he could feel everyone else getting excited too.

Link had told him the entire plan before they’d flown to LA. On the private plane Sam booked, Link had played the song for both of them, but only after Sam made the pilots sign a non-disclosure agreement and had double-checked that all of the intercoms to the cabin were completely off. Rhett was excited about it, but he was nervous. What if it didn’t go over as well as Link thought it might? What if it only made things worse? None of that mattered, though. Link had his full support. Always. And he loved the idea, and the song, but the plan working hinged on everyone else loving it as much as he did, as much as Link did… hell, as much as Sam did. That was the part that he wasn’t sure about.

* * *

Fear gripped at Link’s throat and he tried to brush it off. He was always a little nervous when he performed. That felt like human nature, being worried about the audience’s reaction. If he ever stopped feeling nervous before getting on stage, he figured it might be time to quit. But this was different. His stomach felt like it was somewhere near his throat. This performance mattered more than any other performance he’d ever done. More than the first ones that helped launch his career, and more than the next ones, which would carry his career if he still had one to speak of after this show.

Tonight was a question of what everyone thought of him. Now that he was open and out as a bisexual man, knowing his mother didn’t approve and knowing how the world could be, he wondered how his music would be accepted. Honestly, he wasn’t even afraid of his own acceptance. A lot of people had paved the road for him and come out before he had. For that, he was really thankful. But not many of them had their sex audio leaked after their own carelessness, and that felt like an issue he had to face head-on, one he’d have to address during the show. That part terrified him.

Besides, Rhett was in the audience and seeing his show for the first time ever. This wasn’t some fan-turned-boyfriend. This was best friend-turned-boyfriend-turned-fan, even if Rhett liked his music before. He wanted this show to be a good experience for him, and he wanted Rhett to know where he was coming from when he did what he had to do on stage.

He couldn’t think about that yet, though. Not to start the show, not to open with. That wasn’t why people came to his show, he knew. Or, not why the true fans had come. It was why the press was there, sure: to see if he’d address everything that happened. But his true fans were there for his hits, the classics, the first-album songs and second-album hits that had done so well. He started there, waiting for the countdown before running onto the stage. When his tour started, he’d pop up from under it, but this wasn’t a test run for what he’d be doing in two weeks. It was a first run for  _ right now,  _ what he could get away with at a party that definitely wasn’t a concert. For that, he’d planned a short set, just six songs culminating in the one that mattered, followed by meet and greets, autographs, and partying with the fans who had shown up. But first, his biggest hit.

* * *

Watching Link perform was a different experience than anything Rhett had ever imagined it would be. He’d listened to his singles and his albums. He’d watched him lay down tracks in the studio. This? This wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen Link do.

Link had passion and vibrance. If Rhett was being honest, it was hard not to get aroused by the sheer force of Link’s presence on stage. He was a powerhouse, and everything he did made him look amazing. It was frustrating knowing Link was only doing a few songs that night. In all honesty, it made Rhett wonder if there was a way to skip a game and come to his show instead. He wanted the full effect and hated that he wasn’t getting it.

Mostly, he was excited to enjoy this, to watch Link in his element. And gosh, he looked so good. It wasn’t lost on Rhett that sometimes Link would stumble over a word or two, catch Rhett’s eyes, and come back into focus, finishing the song he was on flawlessly. He didn’t take that lightly.

“You’re doing great, baby,” Rhett muttered under his breath. No one could hear him. Not the girls in the crowd singing, not the people around him, not Link. Definitely not Link. Link didn’t need to hear for it to matter, though. Not really.

* * *

The closer Link got to the final song, the more nervous he got. Outside of his label, outside of Sam and Rhett, nobody had heard it. They’d been so careful not to let it get leaked at all in any way. Nobody even knew they were making it, since he was due to record anyway. It was timed perfectly to not stir any suspicion. But now he had to perform it, and that was scary.

His eyes met Rhett’s. For a moment, he wondered if this was going to do more harm than good. There was no way Rhett’s family would be okay with this. Surely, they’d hate Rhett even more than they did now, and Link kicked himself for his selfish response. Then again, it wasn’t like they hadn’t heard the audio, he assumed. Everyone in America had. Hell, half the world had. This was the only way to make it right. The  _ only  _ way. With his eyes locked on Rhett’s, he watched Rhett mouth “I love you.” Link winked at him and brought the mic to his lips.

“I want to take this moment before the last song to thank y’all for coming out to this party tonight.” Link was careful to not call it a show. He contractually couldn’t call it that. The crowd erupted in a cheer. “LA, you’ve been so good to me tonight. So good. But I know there’s an elephant here in the room right now. No, not that giraffe in the front row. That’s my boyfriend,” he said, and most of the audience laughed at that. He smiled and calmed his racing heartbeat, then stepped closer to the front of the stage, hopping off mid-thought to go over to Rhett. He reached for his hand and squeezed it, then pulled him close. “Is this okay?”

“You’re doing so great,” Rhett told him. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Link said in his ear, stealing a kiss before hopping back up on the stage. He was met with loud cheers again.

“Y’all probably heard that a lot’s been happening in my life lately. I came out as bi. Any other folks here in the audience that have done that, come out?” Surprisingly, most of the room shouted and clapped. “Well, I’m proud of y’all. I know how fucking hard it is to do that.” He took a deep breath, inhaling, exhaling, considering his next words.

“I bet y’all know the other thing that happened to me last week. You hear that sex tape?” This time the whole audience cheered. Link was torn between running off the stage in embarrassment and blushing and owning it. He went with the latter, feeling the red rise to his cheeks. He couldn’t suppress the grin and small giggle. Looking at Rhett, he couldn’t either. “It was hot, wasn’t it?” he addressed the crowd with more bravado than he actually had. “Yeah, that’s right, it was.”

He took two deep breaths. “Yeah, yeah, it was. Try living it. God, that’s way hotter,” he quipped. Rhett’s smarmy grin was pretty clear. He wasn’t embarrassed. He was owning it. Someone next to Rhett high-fived him and Rhett blushed.

“Well, anyway. I’ve got a new—” Link paused to catch a bi pride flag tossed at him, “—thank you—” and then a rainbow flag, “—thanks, I’ve got a new song that I want to perform for y’all right now. Last one of the night and I cannot wait to hear what you think of it. Thanks for coming out here tonight, y’all. Once I’m off this stage, we’re going to have some  _ real  _ fun, yeah?”

Link froze in place, waiting for the audio to begin so he could perform. Within seconds, the audio of his own voice, panting and moaning “oh my god, daddy, yeah, just like that, fuck…” came over the speakers, disorted to be more musical sounding, sampled over itself with other sounds of Rhett breathing and moaning.  _ One, two,  _ Link silently counted, then started to rap over the track.

* * *

Rhett was trying to focus on the song. He was. But the reality was, he could feel the crowd enjoying it and that was enough. All he could focus on was not getting an erection.

Yeah, that seemed a little ridiculous, but the thing is, as much as Link was rapping about how much he loved his life, and he loved getting fucked, and he loved love the way he did, Rhett’s primary focus was on the backing track. No matter how distorted the track audio was, no matter how much it was overlaid on itself to sound more musical than sexual, the underlying reality was that was him, moaning into Link’s ear on an airplane. That was Link, begging for more with his dick slamming into him again and again. That was them, passionate and sweaty, joining the mile high club (hence the song name, Mile High). He held his hands in front of himself, trying hard to control the desire within him to charge the stage, pull Link backstage, and fuck him into the wall.

Link noticed too, glancing over at him, looking him up and down, licking his lips as the song finished. Just before the lights went dark, Rhett’s eyes landed on the obvious situation in Link’s pants.

He was hard.

Really hard.

The rest of the party was going to have to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to fanbabble for beta reading this at the last second this morning since I'm a hot mess and didn't have it finished earlier!


	18. Bliss

“Fuck,” Link gasped, stumbling over his own feet as he scrambled to the dressing room. They didn’t have a ton of time. After all, Link was hosting a party, and he needed to be out there for the meet and greet and mingling he’d promised. But right now he was hard. He hadn’t anticipated the fact that the clips he’d used would get him that horny on  _ stage _ . It was one thing in private, but in public? Shit.

He was certain Sam didn’t buy the “I’m getting changed and will be right out,” excuse for a second. She’d simply shook her head with a smirk and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, okay. Don’t be too long, though? They paid a lot for this.” A quick glance down at Link’s hard-on made it obvious why he was in such a hurry. Thankfully, Rhett was one step ahead of him, waiting in his dressing room the second he got off stage.

“Fuck me,” Link said softly, voice hoarse after the performance. Rhett didn’t need to be asked twice, lunging forward at Link and getting his mouth on his neck, peeling his shirt off of him and kissing his way down Link’s chest and stomach.

“That was so good. That was so fucking good, bo, oh gosh, you’re talented.” Rhett’s fingers dragged along Link’s back, down to his hips as he worked Link’s jeans off of him. “Shit, that was amazing. I was so hard, fuck, you turn me on so much.” Rhett’s words were practically nonsense but Link didn’t care. He loved it all, loved the way he’d gotten Rhett so clearly worked up. If this is the kind of thing Mile High did to Rhett, he planned on putting it on every playlist he’d ever listen to around him. It wasn’t vain if it got his boyfriend down to fuck, was it? He didn’t care either way. Maybe it  _ was  _ vain. Either way, the feeling of Rhett’s lips on his stomach was working for him and, still overwhelmed from on-stage adrenaline, he wasn’t sure he’d even make it to fucking before blowing his load.

“Rhett, fuck, slow down. I think I’m gonna cum now!” Link whimpered out. Rhett didn’t stop. If anything, that only seemed to propel him forward faster.

* * *

The idea that Link was this worked up after a show had Rhett desperate to fuck him down from his adrenaline rush. If it was anything like winning a game, Rhett knew exactly the energy that he was coming off of and  _ fuck,  _ he couldn’t wait to capture it.

It was pretty obvious how Link was feeling. Between the raging hard-on he couldn’t control (which Rhett could barely release from his jeans), and the way he was whimpering and asking Rhett to slow down, panicked he might cum too soon, it was exactly what Rhett was after. They were both chasing release before they’d even started to fuck, and Rhett was tugging Link’s pants down, wrapping his lips around his cock. “Just getting you nice and slick, bo. Hold off for me. Want you to fuck me.” Link had asked Rhett to fuck him, but he was pretty sure Link was down for anything and Rhett desperately needed Link inside of him right then. He couldn’t wait much longer. A few pumps into him and Rhett was sure he’d be coming all over himself.

Link’s fingers tangled in his hair, yanking Rhett back and forth on his cock, and Rhett was almost drooling on himself. “Fuck, that’s so good, Rhett,” Link moaned out. All it did was encourage him. Now he was almost ready to change plan, to suck Link off all the way, deal with his own erection later. Link wasn’t about that, though.

“Fuck, you gotta stop, I have to fuck you, fuck fuck  _ fuck,”  _ Link cursed. All that did was make Rhett throb and crave more of him.

“Fuck me, Link,” Rhett pleaded as he pulled off of Link’s cock, nudging his joggers down and bending himself over the couch in the dressing room. “Please fuck me.”

Link grabbed the lube out of the pocket of his bag before Rhett could reach for it, so Rhett’s full focus was on waiting for Link to push inside of him. Link didn’t wait long.

Rhett was right about it only taking a few pushes from Link to get him off. Link was barely balls-deep inside of him before he was coming hard all over his hand and the couch in front of him. “Holy crap, Link,” Rhett gasped. He hadn’t even had a chance to warn Link he was about to cum. It was like as soon as Link hit his prostate once, it was all over.

Thankfully, Link didn’t stop, pushing into him deeper as Rhett gasped, panted, gripped the couch. “I’m gonna cum,” Link warned.

Rhett pushed back harder, trying to take him deeper. “Good.”

* * *

Fucking Rhett was like heaven. It was better than a good show, and Link didn’t think anything could be better than that. He wanted to hurry, to fuck harder, faster, to finish and then make sure Rhett could feel him dripping down his leg the rest of the night at the party. That was what he really wanted. And he was so close, so fucking close. He could feel the tightening in his lower stomach, could feel how close he was to coming.

“I’m gonna cum,” he warned Rhett.

“Good,” Rhett told him, looking back at him, face absolutely angelic, fucked out, blissful and dazed.

When he came, he practically convulsed with the release of everything. The adrenaline, the need, the desperate touch on Rhett’s skin. “I love you,” he choked out, and suddenly Rhett was pulling forward, turning, tugging Link into his lap and kissing him hard. He cupped Link’s face and Link kissed back, letting Rhett tug at his lower lip. If he didn’t have a crowd to get to, he’d stay like this forever, in Rhett’s arms like this. That wasn’t an option, though. The knock at the door said as much. It was surely Sam, calling them out to the party. “Coming,” Link hollered.

“Thought you just did,” Rhett muttered under his breath, and Link shut him up with a kiss.

“Jeez, Rhett, you trying to get a round two out of me with that smart mouth already?” he asked, his lips speaking against Rhett’s own. He stood up, tugging Rhett off the ground immediately after and trying to find his jeans. There was another knock at the door.

“I’m coming!” Link called. “Jeez, Sam, I’ll be right out. Give me just a—”

* * *

Rhett covered himself when the door swung open, expecting Sam to be standing on the other side. He spun quickly, trying to tug his joggers on and praying she wouldn’t see  _ too  _ much of him. Link’s shrill “What the  _ fuck?”  _ left him panicking, though, tempted to dive behind the couch in case it was some crazed fan trying to get something to give the paparazzi. That was the last thing they needed, he figured. Some stupid fan selling pictures as if the audio wasn’t enough, even if they  _ had  _ used it for good. He didn’t think anyone really needed the visual aids to go with it.

But he glanced over his shoulder. Not Sam. Not a fan.

“Amber, what are you doing here?” Link asked. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“You’re making the biggest mistake, Link,” she cooed, stepping into the room and closing the door. “Is this what you want? Is he really what you want?” She gritted her teeth, clenching her jaw. It didn’t matter that Rhett was a full eight inches taller than she was … he was scared.


	19. Party Favor

“I don’t understand how you got in here,” Link said, furrowing his brow and fastening his jeans. “I gave them your picture.” He’d made sure she couldn’t be there, given Amber’s picture to every bouncer there, had been really careful about it all, and somehow there she was, standing in front of him. 

“My party favors are better than yours,” she said, giving a small, sheepish grin.

“You drugged them? Amber, you fucking bitch,” Link had never used that kind of language with anyone before but he couldn’t believe the lengths that she would go to to get to him. “I can’t believe you.”

“I didn’t drug them. I simply offered a little  _ reward _ .” The words were venom on her tongue and for a moment, Link wondered how bad the PR would be if he straight-up strangled her in his dressing room. Fucking with him was one thing. Stalking him, bribing his security team with drugs, and then breaking into his dressing room right after he’d fucked his boyfriend? That was another. He had no doubt she was high, and even less doubt she was dangerous.

All of that was a problem. And if he wasn’t careful, she was going to make things a lot worse. Link fumbled for his phone, which had been tucked away in his bag, but her approach and the way she jumped on his back made it impossible.

Link barely knew what hit him.

* * *

 

“Fuck!” Rhett yelled, grasping Amber and pulling her off of Link, collapsed on the floor under her. “What the fuck?” He used his arms to grip her wrists, pulling her to the ground and wrapping his legs around her waist. Even as she struggled, she wasn’t a good match for Rhett’s size at all.

“The Fonda!” Rhett yelled out the name of the theatre they were at. “Dressing rooms, my boyfriend is unconscious, I can’t hear you because I’m trying to restrain her!” His voice was getting louder and he couldn’t believe that no one anywhere else in the venue could hear them, that  _ no one  _ was coming. He felt desperate and overwhelmed, and the way Amber’s eyebrow was bleeding, he tried to piece together what had happened. He couldn’t be entirely sure, if he was honest. It had all happened so fast.

First, he and Link were fucking. Then, the knock he thought was Sam. Amber was there. She’d… she’d lunged? And then Link went down. Now she was bleeding and Rhett knew he hadn’t done that. A headbutt maybe? He didn’t know. He didn’t have time to process it. All he could do was hold her in place and make sure she couldn’t hurt Link more, couldn’t hurt him. As one of her hands escaped Rhett’s grasp, she used her nails to dig at his arms until he bled, and she thrust herself back, forcing Rhett into an awkward angle he wasn’t sure he could maintain.

“Help! Gosh dang it, someone HELP!” he yelped, screaming out as he flipped them, trying to pin her to the ground and get her arms behind her to stop the scratching.

Nobody was coming, nobody was helping, no matter how loudly Rhett yelled. He could hear the thud of music outside of the door, and it was clear that he was drowned out by the party, the one he and Link were expected to attend, the one they were already supposed to be out in, mingling and talking and taking pictures. “PLEASE!” Rhett screamed again.

* * *

Yelling. That was the first thing Link heard when he tried to open his eyes. His head was throbbing and everything felt  _ off.  _ He wasn’t even sure where he was at first until he managed to get his eyes open and saw Rhett, holding Amber to the floor, arm bleeding. “What the  _ crap?”  _ Link asked, scrambling to try to help.

“Rhett, your arm,” Link said, and as Rhett reached to wipe the blood, Amber moved, wriggling out from under him and standing up to lunge at Link again. Link could only barely hold her off, still staggering with the dizziness and throbbing in his head. How he’d gotten mixed up with someone so off, he wasn’t sure. He wished they’d ended on better terms and that she hadn’t gotten so mixed up in drugs, in chaos, things that seemed to fuel the underbelly of the public world they lived in. He couldn’t blame her for turning to it, but it didn’t make it easy to deal with in  _ this  _ second when she was completely, totally losing her shit.

“You were supposed to be with me, you stupid prick!” she yelled, shoving Link. “Not this asshole, this stupid, fucking—”

Link tried to tune out the slurs she used so violently, so effortlessly, and tried to regain his composure enough to hold her off. Rhett came at her again, wrapping his arms around her and trying to lift her to get her off of Link. Instead, his back popped loudly, dropping him to the ground.

More than anything, Link wanted to go to him and hold him, to ask if he was okay, but there were more pressing issues, namely the fact that Amber was reaching into her bra and pulling out a folded pocket knife.

“Holy shit, Amber, chill, what the  _ fuck?”  _ Link yelled, trying to block her. If she got it open, it was going to be really, really bad.

“Hands up!” Link heard from the door, and without warning, Amber dropped the knife and did just that. Rhett did, and Link did.

_ So much for being quick and getting back to the party,  _ Link thought. They had bigger issues to worry about.

 

Being led out of his own party in handcuffs wasn’t exactly how Link had intended for this meet and greet to go. Obviously, he wasn’t thinking he’d be arrested, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t in any trouble now, but when officers walked in to see him lunging toward a girl, well … it didn’t exactly look good. He got that.

Worse, though, was Rhett being taken out on a stretcher. All Link wanted to do was go to him, and instead he was headed toward a police station. He could only imagine the headlines the next day. “Can I at least tell him goodbye?” Link asked, pleading with the officer who had him in cuffs. He was thankful Amber had already been taken out of the room. “Please.”

“Yeah, okay,” the officer said, guiding Link over to Rhett on the stretcher where the EMT was giving a preliminary check and wrapping his arm.

“You okay, baby?” Link asked him, leaning forward but unable to really hug him at all because his hands were behind him. He would have given anything to smooth Rhett’s hair, to do  _ something _ , but he couldn’t. Instead, he leaned forward and rested his head against Rhett’s, giving him a small kiss.

“My back. It’s… I can hardly move.”

Link wanted to scream. Rhett’s back was already halfway to ending his career. Now? He could probably kiss it goodbye and it was all Link’s fault.

* * *

 

Rhett could see the guilt in Link’s eyes as soon as he mentioned his back. “Link, babe. It’s okay. No matter what happens, it’s okay.” He reached his free arm forward, the one the EMTs weren’t wrapping, and smoothed it against Link’s shoulder. “It’s okay.”

He was in pain, but he  _ had  _ to be the voice of reason there, to explain to Link that it would be okay, because the panic was written on his face. When it came to his back, he knew it was bad. If it wasn’t a full-on career ender, it would at least be a season-ender. No one was going to take a chance on him after this, and he was sure of it. Even if he could recover, he’d never play with the Lakers again, even if he wanted to. The big question was whether or not he’d be able to play at all.                                                                                                                                                                      

Mostly, Rhett hated the fact that he couldn’t do more to help Link right then. Even though he’d done nothing wrong, seeing his boyfriend in handcuffs he’d surely soon be free of wasn’t exactly the most reassuring or happy thing on the planet.

“Mr. Neal?” an officer stepped in, and Link leaned down, giving Rhett one more kiss.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

“I gotta go, baby. Keep me updated?”

Rhett would text him, sure, but he wasn’t sure how Link would get the updates if he was still in cuffs. It was going to be a really long night.


	20. Exhaustion Point

Link followed the officer, who had given them a quiet moment of privacy, into the hallway. Going to the station seemed like the worst possible thing, but worse than that was maybe being led out the doors past his fans. Sure, the officers could take him through a back door, but it wasn’t like that seemed likely. The humiliation of the situation was getting to him. Even if the fans didn’t see now, they’d be disappointed over the way the meet and greet ended … with no Link. He knew he had to make it up to them, but he didn’t know how. Not with the tour starting so soon. It wasn’t like he could do a make-up show and manage to make everyone happy. He’d figure it out, though. Somehow.

“Mr. Neal, you’re free to go,” the officer said, releasing his handcuffs and patting him on the shoulder. “I’m very sorry for any inconvenience.”

Link wasn’t sure what was happening. Hell, he was pretty sure he was being pranked in some kind of weird way.

“What?” Link asked.

“I’m telling you, if we would have had to wait for the security tapes for this place, it would have been a while, but your quick thinking to record it on a cell phone made things easier.”

Link had no recollection of recording it. He hadn’t even found his phone … but Rhett had, apparently. Had Rhett not been there, Link would have been completely, thoroughly  _ fucked,  _ and not in the pleasant way he’d been fucked right after the show.

“I’m glad. Where’s Amber?”

“She’s been arrested and will be held at the jail. With her fame? She’ll probably be out in an hour or two. Maybe mandated to complete a drug program. This will be a blip on the tabloid headlines tomorrow, but that’s about it,” the officer explained. “If you’re concerned that she’ll be around, we can run some extra patrols. Just give us the address. We’ll also keep an eye out as long as he’s in the hospital.”

Link did, providing Rhett’s address. He’d only be in town another day, but if Rhett was seriously injured? He’d cancel everything, contracts be damned.

Rhett wasn’t happy about being loaded into an ambulance. Ordinarily he would have refused, but the thought of trying to get out of there without the help of flashing lights seemed overwhelming. He still couldn’t move his leg from the searing pain it would send up through his spine. His back was  _ fucked _ .

Mostly, he wished Link would have been able to go with him. He didn’t get why he was still cuffed, not when he’d given them the video from Link’s phone, which Link had somehow gotten to but not gotten to  _ use,  _ tossing it onto the couch as Amber got him. Everything had happened so fast. His head was still spinning.

When the doors closed, Rhett laid his head back on the pillow and stopped even trying to move. The banging on the back door was the only thing to jerk him back up. “What the—”

“Wait!” Link’s voice came through as the EMTs opened the back door. “Can I ride with you?” he asked at the same time he reached a hand up, pulling himself into the back. From there, he stayed by Rhett’s side. Rhett didn’t even recall the EMTs actually answering him. He just knew that Link was next to him, holding his hand, smoothing his hair. “I’m here, babe.”

Surgery. That was the worst word Rhett could imagine.  _ Surgery.  _ Somehow, he’d managed to cause a small fracture in his spine, damaged multiple discs, and—

None of it sounded good. Calling his coach was worse … having to explain everything, to make it clear that it had happened in a non-basketball related incident, all of that. It was a bit overwhelming, to say the least. “So you got hurt at a  _ party?  _ And now you’re saying it’s surgery. You know, part of me wants to say ‘fuck you, deal with it on your own,’ but then I’m dealing with the lack of updates. I’ll call the trainer,” the coach told him. “This shit wouldn’t happen if— you know, nevermind. Any changes in your medical chart I need to be aware of now that you’re dating, oh, what’s-his-name?”

“What changes would be there?”

“You know, any, uh, new illnesses or something? Things you might have—”

“Are you implying that I might have caught something from my boyfriend?” Rhett asked. He couldn’t believe this shit. He’d known some of his teammates were homophobic, but to have confirmation like this from his own damn coach? That was too much.

“I’m asking if there is anything I need to tell anybody,” his coach said, stepping back a little from what he’d said.

“My medical conditions are mine to share with the doctors I work with,” Rhett said. “I’ll say this and say this once. If this isn’t a career-ender, you better trade me the first opportunity you get. I’m done.”

Rhett knew even saying the words was enough to get him in a bad spot. Say the surgery went well and he would be able to play soon? He could kiss playtime goodbye even more than he already had. But he was done with this. And he was done with the team. And if his contract didn’t hold him into basketball, he’d leave as it was. He loved playing, but this? He couldn’t do it anymore.

Surgery was unpleasant for Rhett and Link knew it. The risks his doctor had shared were scary ones. Since it was an operation to his spine, he’d be out for the entire season at the minimum. Even worse, one slip and Rhett would never walk again. Then what would they do? Link had been over it in his head and he didn’t mind. If Rhett was confined to a wheelchair forever, he’d figure it out. They could still do the things they wanted to do, and Link could buy him the best damn wheelchair on the planet.

No, Amber could. She’d caused the damage and Link had already spoken to his lawyers about a lawsuit for Rhett’s injuries and the emotional distress caused to both of them. Still, Link would make sure it was something that would allow Rhett all of the mobility he needed. Even if the worst case scenario happened, Link would pay for the best damn trainers on the planet to get him back where he needed to be. He was positive about that.

He wouldn’t spare any expense for Rhett. And besides, Rhett had the ability to handle those things on his own. It wasn’t like he was dating someone nobody knew. Still, as he sat in the hospital waiting room, listening to whatever ESPN show one of Rhett’s teammates — one of only four who showed up to the hospital — had turned it to, he found himself wanted to scream at the television. They kept reporting the same things over and over, and Link was tugging at his hair in frustration. “That’s not true,” he mumbled under his breath. “That’s not true, that’s not fucking true.”

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. They always fuck up the specifics,” Carl, one of Rhett’s teammates said. He passed Link a cup of hospital coffee that Link could tell was too strong before he ever lifted the paper cup to his lips. “So, any update on McLauglin?”

“No. Last I heard they were still in surgery and still hopeful that it would repair the injury without paralyzing him,” Link said. Tears stung at his eyes. Rhett had gotten his medical forms updated with Link as the emergency contact, but he’d been in such pain that they’d had to start him on painkillers early. One nurse rolled her eyes and reminded Rhett he could change his emergency contact information back once he was feeling “more himself.” Link had wanted to slap her.

It floored him that even in a progressive city like LA, this many people could have issues with their relationship. Link wondered if part of it was the fame: he was well aware that there were many people who “shipped” them with other people. As far as he could tell, there were still speculation blogs, fanfiction, and photoshopped images online of Amber and him together, and even Carl laughed at the fact that there was fanfiction up about he and Rhett in a niche section of a fic website. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m not tryin’ to steal your man,” Carl assured him an hour and a half before, whispering “my wife would kill me,” and giving a conspiratorial wink.

Link liked him. He seemed like a good guy, and if Rhett got traded, or heaven forbid, lost his career … Link hoped they stayed friends.

“It’s going to be a miracle if he ever sees playing time again,” the surgeon said quietly. “I’m tryin’, buddy. I’m tryin’ to get you back in working order.” Rhett couldn’t hear him. Rhett was completely out from the anesthesia. That was a good thing, considering the equipment currently in his back trying to get it repaired. The doctor glanced up at one of the nurses, then back down.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just wondering if you know what this back is insured for,” the surgeon muttered. “If we fuck it up, this dude is in for a huge payout. Of course, if we don’t, he’ll earn a hell of a lot more money playing ball.”

“That’s one expensive back, isn’t it?”

“He’d be dumb not to have it insured for damn near a million dollars. A Lakers player? It’s worth a lot, trust me.”

 

The waiting game was the hardest. It had been hours since Rhett had gone back, and the few players that dropped by had mostly gone home. Now only two remained, Carl and a guy who had barely spoken to Link at all.

Link’s phone rang in his hand.

“Sam?”

“Hey, how’s he doing?”

“Still in surgery,” Link answered.

“Keep me updated, okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” Link told her. “So what’s happening with the show?”

“I think most of the fans were understanding, especially when they saw the ambulance and police cars out front. Anyway, you may need surgery yourself after you make up for it the way I promised them.”

“What?” Link demanded.

“Sorry, too soon. What I meant was you’re going to have a sore wrist. Of course, you’re probably used to that since you’ve got a long dista— you know what? Nevermind. I promised everyone who came that you’d be signing a new copy of your album and mailing it as a thank you and apology. It would be nice of you to also toss in a sticker pack to each fan if you can. A CD doesn’t a meet and greet make.”

Link nodded, and once again realized Sam couldn’t hear him nodding through the phone. “Of course. Anything. I feel really badly about how things went down.”

“Trust me, they’ll be glad they dodged the bullets. Literally. I don’t have a lot of information, but I do know she had at least two guns in her car and one physically on her. I don’t know why she didn’t use it, to be honest.”

“Gee, thanks, Sam. Wishing she’d’ve shot me.”

“No, I don’t mean she  _ should  _ have. I mean it’s a wonder she jumped you instead of shooting you. Trust me, I’m happier she didn’t shoot. Anyway, I’ll let you go. I just wanted to check on Rhett.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Link answered. “I’ll text you when I hear something.”

“Did I hear something about somebody getting shot?” Carl asked. “Sorry, that’s none of my business,” he tacked on after the fact.

“Amber brought a gun. Actually, a few of them,” Link said, sinking into the hospital seat beside him and resting his head in his hands. Rhett was going to have a lot to hear about once he woke up and was more coherent, but the reality was, Link couldn’t share that information with him for a while. It didn’t matter. Amber hadn’t shot them, but the damage that she did was almost worse in a way. Not worse as in being dead would be better, but worse than knowing she had a gun, Rhett was in surgery. Before Link could tell him the full story, or at least, as full as he knew it, he had to make sure Rhett would wake up, that he’d walk, that he’d play basketball, that any of that would happen again. Her shooting them? Not even relevant at the moment. It was just another footnote on an already exhausting time.

**Author's Note:**

> Current posting schedule: Thursdays.
> 
> Thank you to Clemwasjustagirl (Shewasjustagirl on ao3) for continuing to believe in this story and encouraging me to re-post it and finish it, and to mythical-trash and rhinkipoo for beta reading it.


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